County Line Road
by KatyJane75
Summary: A sequel to 'Crossroads' that picks up right where we left off. If you haven't read 'Crossroads' and would like to… What are you waiting for? If you have and you're ready for more, let's dig in! HEA/ no cheating. Credit for these characters, of course, goes to EL James.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

On a bright Saturday morning in October, a week after getting home, I'm kissed awake by my husband.

"Mmmm..." I moan. "Five more minutes."

Then I feel a small, slightly sticky hand patting mine. "Mama?"

I open my eyes and there he is. My baby boy with his bright blue eyes and copper curls. I can't help but return his happy, baby grin. But then I tuck back into my pillow, closing my eyes again.

"We let you sleep as long as we could," cajoles Christian, nudging me awake. "We have a surprise for you."

That does it. I open one eye. "It's not my birthday. And I think I've had enough surprises for awhile," I say, looking at him meaningfully.

We've just returned from my birthday and our anniversary trip to Europe. Near the end of our trip, we discovered I was pregnant again. And upon returning to Seattle, we've learned that it's twins. And _then_ , Kate and Elliot came over last night and told us that they've finally set a date for their wedding. It's going to be June twenty-second.

So now there's going to be an early summer wedding. My best friend is marrying my husband's brother, and I am thrilled for them. Really, I am. Kate was glowing - so happy as she bounced around, excited to share her news - and all I could think about was my late May due date. So, for the moment, I am feeling surprised-out. And slightly overwhelmed. And sleepy. And a little nauseous.

I sit up and peer at him, narrowing my eyes. "You guys didn't cook me a giant breakfast, did you?" My stomach flips at the thought of pancakes dripping with syrup and lovingly made, but runny, eggs.

"Nope. But you should try and eat a little something. It's a bit of a drive. So…" he commands, "get up, shower, and be ready in thirty!" _Ugh, I am not awake enough for bossy Christian._

And with that, he scoops up Teddy, tickles his belly, and heads back upstairs. I can hear Teddy's belly laugh and the clamor of his sisters' greetings in the kitchen. I roll my eyes and, suspecting that I won't be able to put them off, head for the shower.

Twenty minutes later, I am upstairs and ready to go. Based on the fact that Christian was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt when he woke me, I followed his lead and dressed casually. I am wearing jeans, a striped tee, and a light cardigan with pockets.

The kids are finishing up breakfast, Teddy in his high chair and his sisters - my step-daughters Marissa and Ellie - are at the breakfast bar. An episode of _PJ Masks_ is playing on the little kitchen television. It's bright and busy... and wonderful.

"Is this okay?" I ask Christian, gesturing to my outfit. "It's hard to dress for a surprise, you know."

He chuckles and leans in for a kiss. "You look perfect... beautiful and amazing, my wife."

I laugh and make myself some dry toast and a cup of tea in a to-go mug.

We pile into the SUV, Teddy and Ellie in their boosters in the middle row, Marissa in the back.

"Do you girls know where we're going?" I ask, examining their faces for hints.

They both shake their heads vigorously. Hmmm, I don't see any sneaky smiles. I think it's a surprise for them too.

Christian gets on I-5, heading north, and after several miles takes the Woodway exit. Woodway is a small community just past the urban sprawl of Seattle. Without traffic, it's only a fifteen minute drive. The downtown area is small, but boasts several upscale shops and restaurants. We've been here a few times to eat, but today we pass straight through, heading toward the water.

"The beach?" I ask, "But we didn't bring..."

"Nope," he cuts me off, "not the beach."

He drives further into the neighborhood west of downtown. We don't know anybody who lives here... Is it someone who works for him? As we drive, the properties get more and more expansive. Finally, he turns off onto a wooded driveway. No house is visible, but it's marked with two brick pillars.

It's a little dark and overgrown, and we're all hushed as Christian follows the winding driveway. The driveway ends at a large clearing. There's a meadow to the left, which slopes down, presumably to the water. To the right is a huge, half-timber house. It's a little run-down, with some missing roof tiles and crooked shutters. But the design is grand and I bet it's at least a hundred years old.

We all get out, Christian getting Teddy and carrying him in one arm, and take in the scene. "Who lives here?" I finally ask.

Christian shrugs. "It's just an idea, but maybe... us."

The girls overhear him and shriek, running ahead up the gravel drive.

My jaw drops. "But we have a house. A beautiful house. I don't..."

"Yes, we do. And it's getting too small. Quickly." And he looks pointedly at me. "Let's just go check it out."

I sigh and take his hand, and we start walking slowly after the girls. He's right. We'll soon be filling all of the bedrooms, leaving no spares for grandmas or other guests. And the beach property in Seattle is at a premium, with no room to spare.

I can't decide if the house gets better or worse at we approach it. It's definitely showing signs of age and disrepair, but the design is stunning and it looks very well-built. It's a classic half-timber structure, with dark beams and white stucco.

A stout, middle-aged woman in a boxy skirt suit is waiting by the door. "Mr. and Mrs. Grey," she gushes, "I'm the realtor, Olga Kelly. Welcome to Number One County Line Road."

"Hello," I say, shaking her hand after Christian. "County Line Road?"

"Yes," she says. "Most of the waterfront homes are on Pacific Crest Way, but this property is unique in that it bridges King and Snohomish Counties. The driveway actually runs along the county line."

She swings the door open and gestures for us to enter, the girls rushing ahead of us.

And - oh wow - the door opens into a wide entryway. To the right, a grand staircase sweeps to a landing on the upper level. To the left, double French doors are open to a sunny parlor. Again, the girls rush ahead, their feet slapping on the dark slate floors.

But I hold back and just take it in, then slowly release the breath I'm holding. Christian tugs on my hand. "Come on. There's lots more to see."

"I don't even need to see it," I sigh. "I'm home." And I can feel it, see it, hear it… Marissa asking for the car keys on her way to meet friends, Ellie dancing her way across the landing and down the stairs, Teddy bravely heading out the door on his first day of kindergarten, and these two new babies taking their first steps. And Christian and I cheering them on, and eventually growing old together. _This is our family home._

We work our way through the dining room to the right and into a large, old-fashioned kitchen. It's cozy, with beamed ceilings and an eat-in area, but it's completely isolated from the rest of the house. We continue through a swinging door, and we're in the main living area of the house. It's large, with a generous seating area and stone fireplace. Ahead of it, there's a sun room, and I can just glimpse the view beyond. There's also a library and a small, dark den, both with wood-paneled walls, and a tiny water closet. It's all very traditional - gorgeous, dark woodwork frames the doorways and windows. Crown molding and chair rails define the wallpapered main rooms. But the windows, although large and floor-to-ceiling, are all covered in heavy draperies.

We walk out into the sunroom and - finally - there's the view I was expecting. An unobstructed view of the Puget Sounds and its islands, stretching in front of us. Christian puts Teddy down, and our little man goes straight to the window, pressing his nose against the glass.

Now that his arms are free, Christian comes up to stand behind me. He puts one hand on my belly, and slides the other up over my shoulder. He pushes my hair back, starts to nibble my neck just behind my ear.

"Well," comes a cheery voice from just behind us. "What do you kids think?"

 _Shit… I forgot about the realtor!_ Christian releases me, grabbing my hand again, and spinning us around.

"The property and the view, of course, are what you're really buying," Ms. Kelly continues. "Most folks snap up these old properties, demolish them, and put up new construction." She points through the windows to the right. "The house on the point, for instance, belongs to an architect and his family. They're your closest neighbors. Maybe you can have him in to take a look?"

I walk closer to the window and examine the house in the distance. It's all glass and steel, modern with sharp corners and angles. It looks cold and exposed, hanging out over the rocks. Inexplicably, a shiver runs through me. "No," I say, "I don't think a house like that is for us. I am thinking more along the lines of a renovation? Keep the main structure of this house and its character intact, but add modern amenities and make it more open to the view?"

I look at Christian and he's nodding. _Is he with me or was he thinking that this would be a complete tear-down?_

I lean into him. "This is our family home. I can feel it. Tearing it down would break my heart."

He pulls me in tightly. "Then that's what we'll do. We'll talk to the architect, get Elliot and his crew on board. So, it's settled?"

I look at him and nod, a wide smile creeping across my face, and turn to face Ms. Kelly again. "Wrap it up," I say emphatically. "We'll take it."

We take a tour of the rest of the house, and upstairs are six generously-sized bedrooms. Two share a jack-and-jill bathroom, and there is one bathroom in the main hallway. There is no obvious master bedroom, but the two bedrooms facing the water have potential. Christian comes up with the idea of combining them into a large master suite.

Back on the main level, we are shown that a second set of stairs lead from the den to the lower level. There are three more bedrooms, a bathroom, and a small sitting area. French doors open to a little flagstone patio.

Christian looks around, deep in thought. "Is it going to be big enough?"

"Christian, this is a NINE bedroom home. Yeah, I think it'll be big enough. How many more kids do you think we're going to have?" I ask, a little worried.

He chuckles. "It's not that... I was just thinking that we'll need rooms for guests plus living quarters for security personnel."

"You want our CPOs on-site? Living in our home?"

"It's something I've been considering, yes," he says. "We're more isolated up here, and - if we have the space - it wouldn't be a bad idea."

 _Hmm... I will have to think about this._ "I don't know," I say, "I'll think about it. I guess it depends on who it is."

Ms. Kelly steps forward, reminding us of her presence. "If you're needing a bit more space," she says, "I may have a solution. Follow me." She leads us through the French doors and along a path that curves up and away from the water toward stone steps. We climb them, and they lead up to a little log cabin in at the edge of the woods. "This was the original homesteaders' cabin," explains Ms. Kelly. "It's been used mainly for guests or as storage in recent years, but with a little TLC, it would make an ideal caretakers' cottage."

She opens the rough, wooden door with a skeleton key and we step inside. It's an unfinished space, but larger than it appears from the outside. The view from the back windows rivals that of the main house. Christian paces off the room to get an idea of the size. "This could easily be finished to be a two-bedroom cottage with a living area, bath, and kitchen," he says, looking at me. "What do you think? Close enough for security, but far enough for privacy?" I look around and agree that it's a perfect.

We go back outside to round up the girls, who have abandoned the house and are running around the main lawn, turning cartwheels and laughing. They aren't used to a real lawn - just a deck and patio on one side, a path to the beach on the other. I can picture setting up croquet, maybe a hammock off to the side, at the edge of the meadow. Christian lets go of Teddy's hand, and he toddles off to meet his sisters on his sturdy little legs.

Christian pulls me in close, and we watch our children play.

"Well, how's the view, Mrs. Grey?"

"It's amazing," I say. "I love the water and the islands, but what I mostly see is our future... and it's beautiful."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Ten days later, we own the big house on the water and we couldn't be more excited. Tonight is our regular every-other-Wednesday date night. But first, we are meeting with our architect neighbor at the big house. He's coming over for a walk-through and to give us some insights into possible renovations.

It's just warm enough to take the R8 with the top down, as long as we keep the heat blasting. By the time we make our way down the winding, gravel driveway, I am feeling thoroughly wind-blown.

There's a brown Porche in the driveway already, which I assume belongs to the architect, Gianni Matteo. We get out of the car, and I attempt to smooth my wild hair and rumpled clothing as we walk up to meet him.

My first impression of Gianni Matteo is… _shiny._ He's wearing a grey suit, but in the sun the fabric is iridescent. This combined with white leather shoes, shiny pink skin, and silver hair is a little overwhelming. He walks to meet us and he appears to be in his fifties, with a sizeable paunch telling me that he loves a good meal.

"Mr. Grey," he croons, reaching to shake Christian's hand. "And Mrs. Grey," and he grasps my hand, lifting it to his lips. This earns him a grimace from Christian, but my jealous husband manages to hold it together. "It's a pleasure to meet my new neighbors, and - I hope - my newest clients?" Hmmm… shiny _and_ smooth. I can detect a slight Italian accent, but I can't quite tell if it's real or for show.

We show Mr. Matteo through the house, and he tut-tutts his way through the rooms until we reach one of the upstairs bedrooms that could be included in the master suite. He pulls back the heavy curtains, taking in the view, then turns back to us. "So you don't want a complete tear-down? I can picture something… magnificent… a real statement on this _beautiful_ property."

I shake my head vehemently. "No," I say, "as we explained to you over the phone, we want to maintain the original structure and character."

"But you want to modernize and open it more to the view, yes?" We nod. "So this is what Gianni has in mind for you." He spreads his arms wide, as if to emphasize the enormity of his vision. "We take off this entire back wall. We give you just a bit more space for your master suite this way, and the entire back of the house will be glass, upstairs and down."

 _Oh_ … well this is not something I would have thought up. But that's why we hired an architect in the first place, right?

He sees my hesitation. "For the front of the house, we keep the character. You enter from the front and we have old-world charm… you walk through the house, into the main living areas. They are now open plan with a modern kitchen… and BOOM!" I jump a little at this. Mr. Matteo has a voice to match his personality. "We have THE VIEW. And it will be mag-ni-fi-cent. I promise you."

Christian and I are mute for several moments, trying to take it all in. Finally, Christian speaks. "So this glass wall… is the view - um - one way?"

I smirk. Of course this is where my overprotective husband's mind is going. After all, it's going to be part of our bedroom.

Mr. Matteo laughs, "Of course, Mr. Grey. I will draw up some plans? Yes? And you will see my vision."

Christian and I look at each other and finally nod in agreement. It actually does sound pretty fabulous.

Before going back to our cars, we take him to see the homesteaders' cabin. It doesn't need any major design changes, but Christian wants a second opinion as to whether it could be made into a decently-sized living quarters.

"It is big enough for two bedrooms or one larger one?" Christian asks. "Can it accommodate two people and still have a decent kitchen, bathroom, and living area?"

I look at Christian questioningly, but he doesn't meet my gaze. He and Mr. Matteo are busy analyzing the space.

 _Two_ security personnel? I was assuming that it would just be Taylor living here. Or if there were two CPOs, surely two smaller, single rooms would be better?

Mr. Matteo agrees that there is adequate space for what we need. "I've always been curious about this old place," he says. "It has quite the reputation, you know?"

This gets my attention. I had tuned out while they were discussing square footage, dividing walls, and plumbing.

"It has a reputation?" I ask.

"Yes, this was a homesteaders' cabin, but for a very specific purpose. Back in the days of prohibition, King County was dry, but Snohomish County was _not_. This cabin was built on _just_ this side of the county line just for that reason. I imagine it saw some pretty wild times."

We laugh. Of course we've purchased property that was once a hot spot for bootlegged booze. Christian jokes that we'll have to install a bar in it for sure. And I make a mental note to look up its history at the local library.

We shake hands again by the vehicles. "Please call me Gianni," he says. "After all, we are neighbors. No?"

We agree to be on a first-name basis as well, and Gianni promises to have initial plans drawn up within two weeks. He leaves, presumably to return to his modern monstrosity - I mean, home - on the point.

I turn to Christian and cross my arms expectantly. He knows that I haven't forgotten about his mention of two security personnel staying at the cabin. I don't even have to say anything. "I know, I know," he says, pulling me in and trying to make amends for throwing it out there without warning. "Let's go to dinner. I have a little surprise for you."

 _Ugh, another surprise? This is getting ridiculous…_ I narrow my eyes at him, but get in the car. I know he's not going to say another word about it right now. I pull my hair into a ponytail and slide on my Ray-Bans, steeling myself for whatever my husband has up his sleeve. After all, what choice do I have?

Christian drives back down I-5, heading south toward the city. He pulls up in front of a small Italian restaurant on the north side of downtown, gliding the R8 smoothly and expertly into a tight spot on the curb. "Very smooth, Mr. Grey," I murmur. And he knows that I mean this in more ways than one.

He grins at me. And it's his signature Christian Grey mega-watt, boyish smile. He looks like kid on Christmas morning, so I know it's a good surprise. "Ready baby?" He asks.

I roll my eyes at him, but can't help but return his grin. It's infectious. I sigh, "Well I've chosen to be on this journey with you, Christian Grey, so bring it on."

Inside, Christian greets the host and says that we have a reservation for four.

"Four? Are Kate and Elliot joining us?" We've double-dated with them on occasion, but why the secrecy?

He just smirks and places a hand on the small of my back. "You'll see. This way, baby."

We are shown to a round, dark wood booth at the back of the restaurant. I can't see the entrance from where I'm sitting, but turn to look when Christian suddenly slides out and stands.

And my jaw drops in surprise. Our dinner companion is Taylor? And he's with... Gail. Gail Jones. _My boss._ And they're smiling and holding hands as they make their way to us. I look over at Christian and he's smiling too, waiting to greet them. _No fucking way..._

"Taylor," he says, reaching to shake his hand. "Gail," he says warmly, shaking hers as well. He turns and motions toward me. "Well. I think we all know each other." And he's smirking again, proud of his little surprise. _You're going to hear about this later, Christian Grey._

I realize that I haven't spoken, haven't moved, haven't shut my freaking mouth. I force my mouth closed, gesturing to the unoccupied side of the booth. "Of course… please have a seat," I stammer.

Gail slides in next to me, and Taylor sits on the end next to her. Christian resumes his place on my other side. Well... this is cozy. And very, very unexpected. Ever since we got home from our trip, it's been like existing in an alternate universe. Like it's my life, but it's being flipped upside down with one surprise after another. Okay, to be totally honest, we were on quite the spinning ride two years ago. But in the past year, things had finally calmed down.

Maybe this whole thing has been some bizarre practical joke. Now someone will blurt out, "Surprise! You're on candid camera!" My hand brushes my slight, but unmistakable bump, as I arrange my napkin on my lap. Well, _that_ is definitely real...

"So, Ana," Taylor clears his throat and continues. "You may be curious as to why we're all here."

I nod, keeping quiet, allowing him to continue. He seems very nervous. Very _un-Taylor._

"I know you are not aware, but Gail and I..." He pauses and reaches to take her hand, brings it up to clasp it in his.

Just then the waiter appears to take our drink orders. Christian orders a bottle of Sancerre and ice waters all around. Hmmm... champagne, and a $300 bottle at that. _What are we celebrating?_

The waiter departs and Taylor clears his throat again. "As I was saying, Gail and I have been - seeing - each other for some months now."

What?! I turn to look at Christian. He knew about this? How long has he known?

He knows my question without me asking it out loud. "Just recently, baby. And we've been… talking over some ideas. Just hear us out, okay? Keep an open mind?"

I turn back to Taylor and Gail. "Wow," I say. "I mean I'm surprised, but happy for you of course... I just really didn't know that you... well, knew each other."

Gail pipes up, "We met in passing at first, had some meetings about security at the library, and then..." She blushes.

Taylor takes over. "And at the end of one of our meetings... just before Valentine's Day this year, I got up the nerve to ask her out." His cheeks turn pink and he looks a little embarrassed, but proud.

Aww, this is so sweet and I can't help but melt. They have that 'new couple' glow. It's that mix of excitement and nervousness that comes with new love. And I can see that they're happy... really happy.

I am suddenly grinning and I can see both Taylor and Gail visibly relax.

I'm confused. Were they really nervous about my reaction? I like them both... I've always liked them both. And they're two, consenting, single adults. So what's the issue here?

Gail takes a deep breath. "There's more, Ana. And, as Christian said, we'd all like you to keep an open mind... hear us out."

 _Um, okay... Where is she going with this?_ I know that Gail is in her early fifties, so I'm going to assume she's not pregnant. I nod.

"I've been thinking now, for awhile about retiring from the library. I've been there thirty years, and I'm ready for a new chapter..."

"... with me." Taylor cuts in, finishing her thought.

 _Oh no..._ are they both retiring? Moving away? But Christian doesn't seem upset. He would definitely be agitated if Taylor was leaving. I can feel Christian's energy as his leg presses against mine and his hand rests on my knee. And it doesn't feel negative, it feels like... anticipation, excitement even.

The waiter returns with our drinks, popping the cork on the champagne and then placing it in an ice bucket. Christian doesn't make a move to pour it, just looks back at Taylor and Gail.

"I've asked Gail to marry me, and with your blessing, come live with me in my quarters at the big house."

 _Oh! Oh this is better..._ and now I can feel it too. The excitement.

"Ana, when I was a young woman, I saved for college - and put myself through school - by being a... caretaker. Kind of a household manager, nanny, just - a second pair of hands - all in one. And I would like to do that for your family."

 _Whoa._ I mean, I love Gail and I know she's raised two smart, independent daughters, but right now she's my boss. And she would be working for us...

"Are you sure?" I ask, "I mean... wow..."

"I know it's a lot to take in, to consider. But, it would be my pleasure. So please? Think about it?"

I nod. _Of course... I mean if this is something she wants - and if she is willing - then it would be more than fine. It would be wonderful..._

And, just like when I envisioned our life when I first walked into the big house, the images of what could be start to fill my head.

Idyllic sunny days at the big house, in the - completely renovated and gorgeous new kitchen. Afternoons playing out on the lawn... And now I can see Gail with us. Helping the girls to make cookies, chasing Teddy, rocking the babies… Okay, okay, I know that in actuality there will be whining and temper tantrums, vomit and diapers… Lots and lots of diapers.

Wait! Diapers… the babies... I look back at Christian. Does she know about…? When she mentioned helping with childcare, does she realize that the job's about to get a lot bigger? Like bigger by two babies?

Christian shakes his head, smiles. How does he always read my thoughts? It's handy, but a little unnerving. "You tell them. See if it's a deal breaker."

I turn back to Taylor and Gail. It's likely that Taylor knows at least that we're expecting. There's not much that gets by him. He winks at me. "Go ahead."

"Well," I say, "this has been a night of surprises, and now I have one for you... no two for you. We're expecting again..."

I see Gail perk up, poised for an outburst of excitement.

"And," I say quickly, "this time it's _twins_."

That did it. It's her turn to be floored. Her jaw drops and she turns to Taylor, who looks happily surprised, then looks back at me.

"Deal breaker?" I ask.

"No!" She squeals, and pulls me in for a hug. We pull apart, and we're both wiping away tears. Christian and Taylor reach past us and shake hands. And just like that, it seems like we have a deal!

We order dinner and chat amicably all through the meal. We talk about plans for the new house, describe the cabin in the woods that could be the perfect little love nest. Gail shyly asks if they could be married on the property, and the sooner the better.

We discuss the possibility of a December wedding, with a tent set up on the lawn, and a honeymoon over the Christmas holidays. Gail is hoping to retire by the new year, before we transition to the big house. Speaking of the new house, there's a mountain of work to be done on it, and the thought of it makes my head spin.

We finish up, the three of them polishing off the bottle of Sancerre between them, and we make a toast to the future… whatever it will bring.

We head our separate ways, Gail and Taylor leaving to presumably spend the rest of the night together. _Don't think about it!_

"You realize that we just told our staff our news ahead of our family, don't you?" teases Christian.

"I know," I say, "but Taylor seems to know everything anyway. And it seems like they're going to _be_ family."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: Welcome back and thank you so much for reading! In this chapter, many of the characters from my first story, Crossroads, will make a re-appearance. I thought a little reminder of 'who's who' might be helpful.**

 **Christian Grey in this story was not adopted, but he was a submissive for three years in his teens. He went off to college and met and married Chelsea. They had two daughters, Marissa and Ellie. At this time, the girls are eight and eleven.**

 **Ana (Steele) Grey was born to an addict mother, and a foster child who ended up living with her best high school friend, Kate Kavanagh. Ana and Kate were roommates through college and were still living together when Ana and Christian met**

 **The Kavanaghs are now who Ana considers her family, and they include Carla, Ray, Liz (older sister) and Ethan (younger brother).**

 **Kate Kavanagh is now engaged to Elliot Grey (Christian's brother).**

 **Grace Grey is Christian & Elliot's mother. Carrick Grey passed away when the boys were teenagers.**

 **Connie and Molly round out the women in Christian's family. Connie is Chelsea's mother & Molly is her younger sister. **

**Teddy is Christian and Ana's son and at the start of this story, he is almost two years old.**

 **XOXOXOXOXO**

 **Chapter Three**

The following Thursday, we are poring over blueprints at our dining room table in Seattle. In spite of our markedly different personal tastes our neighbor and architect, Gianni Matteo, has really come through.

Architecturally, the front of the house will remain essentially untouched. It will retain its 1920's grace with the original entry, and the parlor becoming a home office for Christian. The dining room will also remain the same, with only fresh paint and refinished floors and woodwork. But once you exit from the dining room into the kitchen, the changes will begin. The entire back of the house is being gutted into one large living space. There will be an open-plan kitchen and a huge living area. The original wood floors and stone fireplace on the right-hand wall, past the kitchen, will remain. The windows on the side walls, minus their heavy draperies, will also remain. But the entire back wall of the house is being removed and replaced with the main new architectural element - a glass wall. The original footprint of the house is only being pushed out about four feet, but the difference allows for a more generously-sized master suite above.

After Gianni leaves, Christian and I smile at each other over the plans. The master suite has a main bedroom area, plus a sitting area against the glass wall. On the interior side, there's a large bathroom - with a double shower and separate garden tub - and two walk-in closets. "It's perfect," I gush. "His and hers closets."

Christian walks around the table and points to the space nearest the bathroom. "I think this one's big enough to share, don't you?"

I look at him, puzzled at his suggestion. Why would we share when there are clearly two defined spaces? He smiles and points to the smaller of the two closets, the one tucked under the eaves. "This one is… eight feet by twelve?" He makes a small sound of approval in his throat. "Yes, I think it's adequate."

"Christian," I say, more sharply, "what are you talking about?"

"I think," he says, "that this space could be a secret closet… for toys?" And as he says the word 'toys' he does look like a little boy, his eyes twinkling at the idea of a playroom.

That night - with both us occupied by thoughts of a playroom in the master suite - we got out some toys that Christian keeps in a safe in our closet. It's nothing compared to our set-up at Escala, but improvising can be fun too.

Christian removes the silk blindfold, releases the leather cuffs that bind me to our headboard, rubs my wrists, then traces one finger down my body. We're both sweaty from our exertions, and I squirm a little at his attentions.

He draws a line across my glistening skin down my arm, over my breast and down to my belly. It's changed in the last week - from the soft, bloated feeling from being in Europe. Now, at ten weeks, it's definitely firmer. And my pants that were simply uncomfortable before now refuse to button at all.

"Are you going to tell them tomorrow?" he asks. "This," he whispers, "is not getting any smaller."

He begins to trace his fingers back and forth on my bare skin, his fingers leaving little tracks of tingles in their wake. The sensation starts to spread lower, and I can feel my libido starting to stretch and re-awaken. I lay my head back and close my eyes, fully expecting his fingers to continue downwards. But, suddenly, he removes his hand and looks up at me.

"We need to have pillow talk," he says.

I laugh. "Hey, that's my line."

"I know it is," he says. "But lately, I don't know. I know we've been busy, and that you're tired by the end of the day, but don't you think we should talk about…"

"About what?" I ask, feigning innocence.

"About the two tiny elephants in the room," he says. "Ana, since we've found out about the twins, you've been putting me off whenever I bring up the subject."

I sigh, reaching down to slide my fingers across my middle, feeling its new firmness. "I know. I think I've been in… a little bit of shock? A little denial? It's just…"

He finishes for me. "A lot."

I can't help but grin at him. This has been our catch-phrase from the whirlwind beginning of our relationship up to now. We've hardly had a chance to catch our breath since that fateful night that changed both of our lives.

"I know you're only ten weeks, but you're not going to be able to deny it… or hide it much longer," he says. "Are you going to tell them on Saturday?"

I groan. I'm supposed to go bridesmaid dress shopping with Grace, Kate, our mom, and our older sister Liz on Saturday.

"I just think that it's a good opportunity - all of the women in the family will be there - Kate, her mom, my mom, Connie and Molly… And do you think you're going to make it through the fitting without them noticing?"

I look up at him in surprise. "Connie and Molly will be there?" This is news to me. They're on the other side of Christian's family. _They're Chelsea's family._

"Well Kate and Molly have been spending a lot of time together lately," he says. "They get along really well, they have similar personalities and interests… You know, they're both obnoxious loud-mouths," he teases. "And Kate… she asked Molly to be in the wedding."

I fold my arms and narrow my eyes at him. "You mean they're both fun and outgoing… both single - for now anyway - with no kids… both love to shop… Basically they're everything that I'm not."

"Baby, that's not… I mean, you're still the matron of honor."

I throw my hands up. _Ohh… I hate that title. Who came up with it? It makes me feel twenty years older with a giant bust and hips._ "My best friend and has a new bestie. It's fine. I get it."

It's Christian's turn to sigh and look exasperated. "I didn't mean to upset you. I just thought it would be a good opportunity with everyone there… and I'll be with all the men in the family out on The Grace, and I can tell them if you want. We have a babysitter all day, so the timing's perfect."

I don't like it, but I have to admit that he's right. It's the perfect opportunity, but it's supposed to be Kate's day. "I'll think about it," I say. "I promise. But right now... I need some affirmation that I'm still young… and fun… and sexy."

Now I have his attention. "What did you have in mind, Mrs. Grey?"

I sit up. "I'm not sure, but it doesn't involve this," and I peel off the vee-neck tee. "Or these." And I shimmy out of the boxer briefs and then gesture to the matching pair on my husband's body. The pair that is starting to stir and come to attention.

Christian reaches down and adjusts himself, then closes his eyes and strokes himself up and down. "Come show me," he whispers hoarsely. "Come show me exactly what you mean."

I climb onto his thighs, straddling him, and lean down to kiss him, slipping my tongue in and deepening the kiss. Then I trace a path down his throat, his muscular chest, and down his abdomen until I find his happy trail. I nip at the waistband of his boxer briefs, grasping them firmly on both sides and sliding them down his legs. Christian arches his hips to help me, and his erection springs free. Once I get them past his feet, I slide back up, making a path with my tongue.

"See?" I say softly, speaking to his dick instead of his face. "I'm fun, I'm adventurous… and I can sure as hell keep up with any of you. And I'm gonna ride you all night to prove it."

I lick the drop of pre-cum from his tip before positioning myself over him and sliding onto his length. I let out a little hiss of appreciation at the feeling of him inside me. And then I start to move, riding him, moving my hips faster and faster, reaching down to brace myself against his chest.

"Fuck, baby," I hear Christian moan, and it tips us both over the edge.

Afterwards, I snuggle into his side. He's still flat on his back, and we're both shiny with sweat from our exertions.

"You know what?" I ask. Christian doesn't say anything, just grunts deep in his throat. "I've still got it."

 **xoxoxox**

On Saturday morning at ten o'clock, I arrive at the bridal shop on Fifth Avenue. I am ushered back to a private suite of rooms, and I see that I am the last to arrive. They're all sitting around on the pink velvet couch and chairs, and Molly is busy pouring everyone champagne. _Ohh… champagne. Fantastic._

"Ana!" Kate exclaims and comes to give me a hug. She's in full-steam Kate mode this morning. She's shopping, it's for her wedding, and she's the center of attention. She's in her element, which is pretty much the opposite of my comfort zone. I was so ready to let her have the spotlight this year, too.

I get hugs from everyone else, take a flute of champagne from Molly, and join the others in toasting Kate and Elliot's future. I feign taking a sip before turning around and setting the champagne on a side table. Ugh, just the sweet smell of it makes my stomach turn.

"So," I say, clapping my hands. "Let's see this dress, Kate!" Kate has had her dress picked out for months, maybe even years. We're all here to see it for the first time and to select dresses for the wedding party.

Kate disappears with the saleswoman and returns several minutes later in a gorgeous, off the shoulder, white lace gown. It has an elegant, removable train, and it hugs her curves and looks absolutely stunning. "Oh, Kate," I gasp, tears springing to my eyes, and the others join me.

She steps onto the little carpeted platform and models the dress while the saleslady takes a few measurements, places some pins for needed alterations.

When they're finished and Kate returns in her street clothes, she's ready to turn our attention to a rack of bridesmaids' dresses that she's selected ahead of time. _Ohh… they are gorgeous._ And dress after dress is satin and very fitted. There is no stretch or extra room for… anything.

"Now," says the saleslady, "Kate has chosen these in the style that she wants, but they aren't necessarily final selections. We do, however, need each of you to try on a few for sizing purposes."

Molly is thin, but bigger-boned and taller than me, so she chooses a size eight to try on first. It's shimmery and backless - so gorgeous - and just Kate's taste.

"Now how about you, dear?" she croons, turning to me. "Maybe a size four?"

I blush and remove one of the size four dresses from the rack. It's a smooth, floor-length, silver satin with plunging neckline. I blush. There is no way I am getting into this dress. "Um, this is stunning, but it looks very… um, fitted. Maybe a size six would be better? Unless you have one with a little - forgiveness - to it?"

"Come on, Ana" encourages Kate. "You should definitely try the four. You're gonna kill in it."

I blush again and sink my teeth into my lower lip. "It's just… um… I'm not sure about how this is going to fit right now, or..." I swallow. Oh, I have their attention now, whether I want it or not. I take a deep breath. "Or how my body's going to be next June… um, after the babies arrive."

The room is absolutely quiet for a second, two… then Grace says, very calmly, "Ana dear, did you just say babies?"

I nod slowly and hold up two fingers.

And the room explodes.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I feel like this story has been all fluff and set-up so far. That said, here is one more little bunch of fluff before we have some drama brewing.**

 **We were all relieved that the architect was Gianni Matteo, not Gia. BUT, guess who he's married to? Mean girls, mom shaming, and more… coming up!**

 **xoxoxox**

 **Chapter Four**

I am passed from person to person, being hugged and exclaimed over within an inch of my life. When it's Kate's turn, I pull her close and whisper in her ear. "Sorry, Kate! This day is supposed to be all about you!"

"Ana! She pushes me to arms' length and holds me there. What are you talking about? I'm thrilled for you! Plus," she whispers, "this will totally take the heat off of me and Elliot having a baby right away."

I laugh. Leave it to Kate to break the ice and find a way to soothe my nerves. "I wanted to wait until after the fitting - maybe when we were at lunch? But then I realized that I am not going to make it through this fitting under the radar."

I pull my shirt tight so everyone can see my little bump, which is getting bigger by the day.

"Oh!" squeals Grace, "my goodness, sweetie… how far along are you?"

I blush. "I know… um, ten weeks? We were going to wait until closer to twelve weeks to tell everyone. And, honestly, I've been in a little bit of denial?"

Everyone is nodding.

"And this - well, they - kind of threw me for a loop. But I'm okay now - I think - and we're ready to do this." I take a deep breath, let it out. "Speaking of doing this…" I turn to the saleslady who has been taking all of this in - a bemused expression on her face - "a size six, please? Maybe even a size six with a bit of a stretchiness? Thank you."

After we all try on a couple of different options, we agree on navy blue bridesmaid material is smooth and elegant, but has some stretch to it. They have scooped necklines that plunge deep in the back. I figure if there's going to be skin showing, the back is a safe place for it. We also choose coordinating flower girl dresses for the girls. Teddy will go with Christian to be fitted for a tiny, ring bearer's tuxedo.

Decisions made, we head to a nearby hotel for lunch. They are serving high tea, and we giggle over the finger sandwiches, crumpets, and scones. They all joke with me by piling two of everything on my plate. Luckily, my stomach is feeling fine - and I find that I am famished now that the lump in my belly from having to tell them is gone. And I happily eat through my double-sized portion.

After lunch, we go shopping for shoes to go with the dresses, and end up with navy wedge sandals with sparkly straps. And of course, since Kate and Liz and Molly - the super shoppers - are involved, we all end up with matching clutch purses.

I return home just before dinner, tired but giddy from my girls' day out. Christian is wind-blown from a day on the boat, but seems happy and relaxed. We take turns telling about everyone's reactions to our news. It feels good - real - now that everyone closest to us knows. Well, not quite everyone…

I make a Hawaiian pizza with ham and pineapple - the girls' favorite - garlic bread, and salad for dinner.

As we're cleaning up, Christian comes up behind me. "Hawaiian pizza _and_ garlic bread? Are you trying to butter them up?"

I giggle. "Is it that obvious? I also made chocolate chip cookies."

"Baby, they're going to be fine with it… they'll be excited."

I sigh. "I hope so. I know I'll feel better once everyone knows. Until then…"

"Until then you're going to be nervous."

"Yes."

After dinner, we light a fire and settle in to play a game of Monopoly on the coffee table. We take turns guarding the board from a curious Teddy, who just wants to drive the tiny car piece around the board.

I sigh and just take in the scene - my family… my perfect family. Christian leans in close and says, "You know we're going to have to tell them. But not tonight…It's already been a big day. Tomorrow?" I nod. _I know._

 **xoxoxox**

We haven't had the kids back at the big house since meeting with Gianni about the plans, so we decide to pack a picnic and head north for the day.

We got a huge wicker hamper as a wedding gift, but we've hardly used it. When I saw the meadow at the big house, I knew it was the perfect spot for it.

I'm tucking a container of the freshly baked chocolate chip cookies into the hamper when Christian comes in, deftly popping open the container and snagging a cookie.

"Hey," I scold him, "You're as bad as the children. Those are for dessert and you're going to spoil your appetite."

He leans in for a kiss, trying to get back into my good graces. I can taste chocolate and I lean in to deepen the kiss. Hmm… Christian and chocolate. This has definite possibilities. I blush at the memory of him liking the combination of Ana and vanilla… "You know that's not a problem. I'm insatiable," he teases. "And speaking of children…" he lowers his voice.

"I know," I say, resigned to the idea that we are telling them today. "I know you're right. I just hate to drop it on them all of a sudden."

"We'll just work it into the house tour, okay? Just follow my lead. It'll be fine… they'll be fine," he murmurs. Then he straightens up, calls out to the children. "Let's go… move it out!"

By the time we load up the children, the hamper, a blanket, some yard toys… pretty much enough stuff for a group of explorers heading for the North Pole, and drive to the big house, we are all starving. We plunk ourselves down at the edge of the meadow and dig into our lunch of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, Goldfish crackers, red grapes, lemonade, and of course, the cookies. "Not exactly the gourmet picnic I first pictured when I first saw this basket," I sigh.

Christian smiles and runs a hand through Teddy's curls, his other hand holding a fistful of Goldfish crackers for his son. Teddy promptly perched on his lap as soon as he sat down, insisting on having Christian feed him. Marissa and Ellie look relaxed as well. Marissa is reading her book while munching on a handful of grapes. Ellie is sneaking a second cookie, thinking that no one is watching. "Just one more, Ellie," I say, reaching over to tickle her. "I see you."

When everyone is finished, we pack up the hamper and head into the house. Upstairs, the girls are clamoring to pick which rooms will be theirs.

"Marissa, I think you should have this one," I say, entering the largest room, which looks out over the driveway. "It has a window seat, which is just perfect for reading." The room has faded, blue and white flowered wallpaper, but I can already picture it with a fresh coat of paint and gleaming, refinished floors.

We walk through the adjoining jack-and-jill bathroom to the bedroom on the other side. "And you two girls can share this bathroom," I say, looking around. The bathroom will have to be completely gutted and re-fitted, but the space and layout are good. The second bedroom is only a little bit smaller than the first, and has a walk-in closet. "And look at this, Ellie," I say, pointing to a small door in the back wall of the closet. I open it and it leads to a cozy space under the eaves. "A secret room just for you." She squeals in delight and crawls inside. "We'll have it finished and carpeted, and put a light in, and you can keep your treasures in here."

We move on to the third largest bedroom, which is right next to the ones that we have in mind for the master suite. "And this will be Teddy's room!" exclaims Ellie, running in and spinning around in the empty space. Teddy wriggles out of Christian's arms and toddles over to meet his sister, joining in her excitement.

"Actually, I was kind of thinking that Teddy will have the little room at the front next to Marissa's," says Christian. "It's cozy and tucked into the eaves, and it will be our little man's special spot. This room," he holds his arms out, taking in the space, "is big enough for sharing."

"Who's going to share it?" asks Marissa. "The grandmas? I thought they were going to be downstairs."

"They will be," says Christian, reaching out to pull me into his side, giving me a little squeeze. _I can't breathe. This is it… this is where we change their lives again._ "This room is going to be shared by two special little people… by our two new babies."

Marissa's brow furrows as she processes this information, and then a slow smile begins to creep across her face as she figures it out. "Twins?" she asks in disbelief.

We nod and she turns around to her sister and brother, who are still occupied by spinning around. "Mom and Dad are having twins, you two!" she calls out. Ellie stops spinning and starts jumping around in excitement, with Teddy following her lead again, hopping up and down.

Christian starts laughing and turns to me, "See? I told you so. They're good with it."

But I'm still frozen to my spot, and I feel tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.

"What is it, Ana? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," I say softly. "She just called me Mom."

Marissa comes over and gives me a hug. "You called me mom," I say. "Are you sure? If you didn't mean it… I mean, if it just slipped out…"

She shakes her head. "I meant it. I called _her_ 'Mommy' and that's what she'll always be. But you're our mom."

After all the talks we've had about how it's fine to call me Ana... all of the reassurances that I would never take the place of her mother… This moment - the one that I have been fearing for weeks - just slipped in and filled that tiny little crack. And, just like that, we were a whole family. _A whole family of seven._

 **xoxoxox**

On Monday night, I am propped up in bed with my work spread around me. One of my favorite jobs as a children's librarian is reading and reviewing new acquisitions to the collection. I love discovering new books and authors. At first, I would read the books and write a review just for our downtown branch's website. They were kind of like pitches for the new books, encouraging people to come in and check them out.

Soon, other branches were asking for me to share, and I was writing reviews for the entire King County library system. I caught the eye of a literary agent, who offered me a part-time job as an independent reviewer. My reviews are posted on various websites and in some newspapers and magazines. I've expanded from just children's books into young adult books and graphic novels. And some of these books are much longer and time-consuming.

I really love it, but it's sometimes hard to squeeze it into our busy life. In the evenings, I usually make and clean up dinner. Christian takes on the duty of putting the children to bed. This buys me an hour or two to get some work done before going to sleep. More often than not, I bypass my home office and snuggle into bed instead. Tonight I am surrounded by six books - three of which are advance editions and on a tight timeline - my notebooks, and my laptop.

Tonight I'm reading a graphic novel, the latest from Dav Pilkey. It's fast-paced and hilarious, but even so I am fighting to keep my eyes open. At the end of chapter six, I decide to rest my eyes for just a minute…

I wake to the book being pulled out of my hands, and I open my eyes to meet my husband's grey, concerned gaze. "Ana, you can't keep up this pace. Something has got to give. This is the third night in row that you've fallen asleep with a book in your hands." He smirks. "The library doesn't want their new books covered in drool."

 _What? I am not drooling!_ But I reach up and check the corners of my mouth to make sure. "I am not drooling!" I say, and smack him in the arm.

"Okay, okay… you weren't drooling. But seriously, Ana, you're taking on too much."

"I know," I sigh. "I know I really don't need to take on this part-time work, but I really love it. I don't want to cut back. If anything, my agent wants to keep expanding my focus. I mean, I could do it practically full-time!"

 _Oh shit_. I look over at Christian and he's grinning. I _hate_ it when he gets me to say exactly what he's thinking. Like somehow it then becomes _my_ idea.

 _Oh I am not going to play this game._ I pick the graphic novel back up, pretending to be engrossed in it. I mean, he's right… _I could stop working at the library, do even more reviewing - on my own schedule, have more time for the children. Not even worry about going back to work after my maternity leave… I woundn't have to commute. Heck, I wouldn't even have to get dressed._

Christian lets me stew for a few minutes, then says "Ana?"

"Shh… Christian, I'm trying to concentrate." I scowl.

"Ana, you have the book upside-down."

 _Fuck._

 **xoxoxox**

Wednesday evening, we are finally back to our normal date-night routine. With our crazy summer schedule, our trip, and wanting to be with the children after we got home, it hasn't happened in awhile. Christian picks me up from work at 5:30. It's warm for October and sunny, so he's driving the R8. I squeal when I see it, and run my hands along the top of the door. "Well... look who came out of storage."

Christian grins and hands my my Mariners cap and Ray-Bans. He looks so young and carefree in a white linen shirt and jeans. _A boy and his toy_. We're going out to dinner and then to spend the night at Escala, something else we haven't done in awhile.

He revs the engine before pulling into traffic. I glance in my rearview mirror and see Taylor and Sawyer in the SUV, who are both shaking their heads while trying to hide their smiles. The warm, sunny Seattle evening and Christian's good mood are infectious.

We drive north along the waterfront, then pull into a little restaurant overlooking the water. There's a small, indoor seating area, but it's mostly made up of a large deck with an outdoor bar.

We get out of the car and Christian grabs my hand, leading me straight to the steps going up to the deck. "I don't think I've ever been here before," I say.

"No, I don't think so… I used to come here with Elliot sometimes, but it's been awhile for me too. They have great pulled pork and microbrews, and it's a great spot on a nice day."

The bartender perks up when he sees Christian. "Well if it isn't Christian Grey darkening my doorstep." He reaches across the bar to shake Christian's hand. "What have you been up to, my friend?"

I look at Christian and his eyes are warm and twinkling. He actually likes this guy… he has a friend! "George, I'd like you to meet my wife, Anastasia Grey."

George's eyes widen as he takes me in and a slow smile crosses his weathered face. "Well you don't say. I can see what's been keeping you busy. Congratulations, you two."

Christian laughs. "Thanks, George. It really has been awhile." Christian orders us two pulled pork baskets with coleslaw, a bottle of Adnams Explorer for him and a sparkling water with lime for me. We settle in at a table for two overlooking the water, which is turning a pearly pink color, reflecting the sunset above it.

"This is a great spot… really peaceful," I say.

"Yeah, I used to come here a lot - after Chelsea - just to think, clear my head, maybe have a beer with Elliot. And I wanted to bring you here tonight… since it's a good spot for talking and thinking."

 _Hmm… kind of like our bench, but with food and beer. What now?_

"So Elliot thinks that he can have the caretakers' cottage ready by January."

"Okay... " I say, "so that takes care of Taylor and Gail, but they won't be moving in ahead of us, will they. I thought we weren't going to worry about moving in until summer."

"Well," he says, "I was thinking that if you were done working at the library at the end of the year? I mean… if that's what you want to do. The girls could start school up there in January, and we could all be in a new routine by the time the babies arrive."

 _Hmm, very smooth, Mr. Grey. I haven't decided on anything, yet._

"So you're saying that we should all move into the caretaker's cottage?" I ask.

"Well, yes, temporarily… but not quite _all_ of us." He's rubbing his hands along his thighs now, and I can tell there's more.

"What?" I ask, narrowing my eyes at him.

"I have to go to Taiwan in January," he says. "I've been putting it off, and now it's kind of a mess over there. Ros and I need to do some damage control at our shipyard there, and it could take as long as three weeks. I'll take Sawyer with me, and leave Taylor with you and Gail. I can delay it until after the holidays and Teddy's birthday, but that's it." He pauses to catch his breath, looking up at me.

George arrives with our food and drinks, and I give him a tight smile. Like any good bartender, he knows how to be discreet, and he backs away quickly, giving us our privacy.

My head is spinning, and then the pieces start to click into place. "So you would rather have me and the children up at the property - even though it's under major renovations - so Taylor and Gail can keep an eye on us?"

He squirms a little in his seat and then nods. "I want you away from the city while I'm gone, baby… it's all about keeping you safe, and out of the spotlight, and if you're not going to be working… And Elliot says that at least a couple of the other bedrooms will be finished by the time I get back. So we won't have to share." He winks and reaches under the table, running his hand up my thigh.

Now it's my turn to squirm. "Okay, Mr. Grey, we'll make it work."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

So this is how, two days after Teddy's birthday, I ended up moving into a homesteader's cabin with two newlyweds. Not to mention a sometimes-moody eleven-year-old, an inquisitive eight-year-old, and an energetic two-year-old. _And_ a set of twins who were due in four short months.

Taylor and Gail graciously offered us the master bedroom for the time-being. It's a fairly large room, but by the time we added a full-sized bed, a set of bunk beds, a crib, and a dresser, it was very... _cozy_.

Taylor brought our things in - a suitcase of clothing for each of us plus a couple of boxes of toys and books. Gail carried in the two bags of groceries we had purchased, so we were set for dinner and breakfast at least. She'd already been up during the week getting the kitchen set up with essentials.

She busies herself with putting the groceries away, bustling about the small kitchen. I offer to help, but she brushes me off.

"Well, I should go unpack, I guess," I say, and start to head back to the bedroom. The children are in the corner of the living area that has been designated for toys. The girls are helping Teddy to unpack his beloved wooden train set that Christian got him for his birthday.

"Ana, why don't you just sit down here for a few minutes, take a load off? I'll make us some tea, and then I can help you unpack in a bit?" Gail suggests.

I turn back and climb gratefully onto one of the barstools at the small peninsula that separates the kitchen from the living area. I look around, relaxing for a minute and taking in the decor. It's rustic, maintaining the original character of the cabin. Exposed logs, simple furniture, and warm colors make it very homey and inviting.

Gail brings over the two cups of tea and takes the stool next to me. "You look tired, Ana. Are you feeling all right?"

"Yes, I'm all right. I think 'tired' is just a constant for me right now." I run one hand over my growing belly, feeling one of my twins flutter beneath my hand. "It's not like anyone even lets me lift a finger, and I'm still tired."

"That's what being pregnant is like," she sighs. "And moving is mentally exhausting as well as physically."

"I think that goes for parenting those three as well," I say, taking a sip of my tea and gesturing to the children. Teddy is screeching at Ellie. Apparently, she's not setting up the track to his exact specifications. He scowls at her and stamps his little foot. He looks so much like Christian, with his furrowed brow and imperious gaze, that I snort my tea in laughter.

 **xoxoxo**

The following week, the girls start school in Woodway, catching the school bus at 7:30 in the morning. And, for the first time since returning from my maternity leave with Teddy, I have nowhere to be on a Monday morning. I play with Teddy and catch up on my emails and some reading in the morning. After lunch, when Teddy goes down for his nap, I am officially at loose ends.

Gail and Taylor watch me pace for awhile. I try settling in a couple of different spots, but the cabin seems to be getting smaller by the minute. I could join Teddy and nap...

"Why don't you go out for a bit, Ana?" suggests Gail. "Maybe you could try that little coffee shop downtown."

Hmm… Maybe I could do that. I could do some work there, but then again… maybe I should just stay. What if Teddy…

"You could drive the R8," says Taylor with a twinkle in his eye. Ooh, he knows that I cannot resist that car. "I'll follow you in the SUV."

You know what? Fine. I'll take some time for myself and I'll take Christian's car. _Yes!_

After slipping on the Mariners cap and Ray-Ban's, I ease the R8 down the gravel driveway and check the main road for traffic. I rev the engine, feeling it roar to life beneath me, and turn left toward town.

I forgot how fun this car is! The engine is literally purring and it glides effortlessly around the turns on this serpentine back highway.

Too quickly, I reach downtown Woodway and spot the little coffee shop on the corner, _Woodway Perks_. Perfect.

I pull off the ball cap and sunglasses, pull down the visor, and examine my reflection in the vanity mirror. Brown bangs, clear blue eyes, no makeup... _Wait, are those dark circles under my eyes? Ugh. I guess it's not surprising._

I grab my work from the passenger seat - a brown leather messenger bag containing my MacBook and notes, and three new manuscripts, still bundled together with rubber bands.

I heft it all up and out of the car, trying to juggle it all while not letting my sweater pull tight against my belly. There shouldn't be any paparazzi in downtown Woodway, but you never know when a curious bystander will snap a photo for a quick buck.

I sling my shoulder bag onto my right shoulder, balance the manuscripts in my right arm, and use my left hand to lock the car and pull my trench across my body. There. Not the most graceful exit, but probably no one's watching anyway. My mind flashes back to when Christian and I attended an awards dinner last summer. _I slid gracefully out of the limousine in my tight red dress and matching 4-inch Manolos's... sigh._ I am a far cry from that today as I make my way up to the door of the coffee shop.

Pushing my way inside, I spot a small corner table and make my way over to it. It's set a little apart from the others along this wall. although they are all connected by a long, upholstered bench. There's even a small lamp and - yes! - a power outlet below. Perfect. This could definitely become my regular spot.

I plunk down my shoulder bag and manuscripts, slide my wallet, keys, and phone into my trench and go to the counter to order. _Mmmm... it all looks and smells amazing._ And my stomach grumbles in appreciation. There is an entire cold case of quiches - three cheese and tomato, Lorraine, ham and spinach... And there is a separate pastry case with muffins, filled croissants, scones... _Ohh, I want it all._

"What can I get for you, ma'am?"

I look up and the barista is leaning across the counter, waiting for me to make a selection. It's a whole different world from bustling, downtown Starbucks. Everything there happens at a frenetic pace and you had better know what you want before you even approach the counter. All of the communication there happens in weird sort of code. "Half caffe grande, skinny, no whip... Americano with room... Venti with an extra shot, half hazelnut..."

I sigh and smile and the barista. He's young, with a wide grin and dreadlocks. "This all looks amazing," I say. "I'm new here, so what do you suggest?"

"Well." He says, rubbing his hands together, "Are you in the mood for sweet or savory?"

My stomach is practically chanting, "Sweet, sweet,..." And right now, what the belly wants, the belly gets.

"Sweet," I say, eyeing the pastry case again.

Eventually I settle on a blueberry muffin and a flat white half-caff latte with hazelnut. Gus, as his apron say, serves it all up with a flourish.

I thank him and, after feeding the tip jar, make my way back to my little corner table.

I settle into the bench side of the of the table, so I have a view of the coffee shop, taking note that Taylor has settled into the barstool seating in the window. He has his laptop and is, no doubt, nursing a cup of black coffee while monitoring our security status.

I sigh, knowing that I'll never really be used to this. But at least I made it out of the cabin. _Baby steps..._

I plug in my MacBook and remove the rubber bands from the first manuscript. It's the first in a new young adult trilogy. The synopsis is about a young dragon princess. Whether it's a princess who _is_ dragon or a princess who _has_ a dragon remains to be seen...

As I am beginning to page through it, taking sips of my deliciously foamy latte, I am aware of chattering to my left. A group of young women is settling at the larger table next to mine like it's their second home.

They appear to be young mothers, dressed in designer workout gear with young children in tow. The children are also impeccably dressed - one is a little boy, maybe a year old. He's wearing an argyle sweater, corduroy pants, and tiny UGG boots. The little girl is in a pink floral dress and cardigan. The third mother has a baby carrier over one arm, which she sets on the bench next to her. Her midriff is bare and flat, and is that a belly button ring? I mean, no one with an infant should look that good! All of them are thin and tanned, hair and nails done, makeup perfect.

 _Shit_. I blush and look down at my manuscript, pretending to be deeply absorbed in it.

"Excuse me," a voice says. I look up and it's her. The one with the bare midriff. "... but aren't you Anastasia Grey?"

 _Umm... crap._ So much for quietly getting some work done. "Yes," I admit, "Um, hello."

"Oh. My. Gosh," she gushes. "I'm Gia Matteo. We're neighbors! Wow, you look SO different in real life."

Okay... so is that a compliment or not? It's hard to tell, so I smile and nod, sliding my hand over my ponytail and looking down at my bulky fisherman's sweater, jeans, and Chucks. No make-up, and I _know_ I have circles under my eyes. _Yeah, it wasn't a compliment…_

I smile and nod at Gia and her friends, and all I can think is 'there are not my people.' But they are. They're my neighbors and Gia's husband is our architect. I can just imagine the wheels of progress on our renovation grinding to a halt. I am going to have to learn to get along with them.

At least in Seattle, I had Kate and my co-workers at the library. And even though our old house was in a really nice area, the people were friendly and _real._ These girls don't have an extra ounce of flesh or a natural breast among them.

 _Oh God, I have been sucked up out of my life in Seattle and plunked down into an episode of Real Housewives of Snohomish County._

"I saw you getting out of that gorgeous car and thought it was you. And I had NO IDEA you two were expecting again! Congratulations! I mean, wow, you must be about due?!"

I blush. _Shit._ Well there went our cover. So far, we've been able to keep this pregnancy under the radar. "Um, thank you? And no, I'm just five months. So how old is your little one?"

"Two months," she says, turning the car seat so I can see the baby. "This is little Gino. He did a number on my body. It's taking me _forever_ to get back in shape. He's my third… my other boys, Gian and Guiseppe, are three and five."

I nod, my mind distracted from her impossibly trim figure. Why does her name sound so familiar? Wait, Gia... Gianni... "Gianni Matteo," I say out loud. "He's the architect overseeing our renovation." I picture the man in my head - mid fifties… "Is he your father?" I ask.

She considers me for a moment. "No," she says, crossing her arms, "he's my husband."

Oh shit. I know my jaw drops. That's her husband? She's late 20's at the most! I look back up at her in mortification. The house on the point is _her_ house. I mean _their_ house.

She drops her arms and laughs, "I know. I'm used to it. Yes, Gianni and I have been married for eight years."

Gia introduces me to her friends, who also live along the same shoreline road. Ashley is blonde and has the year-old boy and a daughter in kindergarten. Courtney has dark hair, and her two-year-old daughter is perched on the bench next to her. The little girl is drinking some sort of bright orange smoothie out of a glass glass with no lid, not a drop on her pristine pink outfit. I cringe when I think about the mess that Teddy would make with that.

In fact, they ALL have some type of vividly-colored smoothie, ice water, and no food.

"Have you tried these power smoothies, Anastasia?" Gia asks.

"Um, just Ana, please," I say, "and no, I'm a latte girl, I'm afraid." I mean, isn't that the point of a coffee shop?

They all consider me like I have two heads. "Well," says Gia, "I'm still trying to get back in shape, so I'm avoiding all carbs, dairy, and sugar.

Courtney and Ashley nod in unison. "No carbs, no dairy, no gluten, and no red meat," says Courtney, spitting out the words like they taste bad in her mouth.

"Actually, I'm a fruitarian," says Ashley proudly.

I just nod, thinking I will have to Google that one later, and hide my latte and muffin behind my MacBook. And I think about how it's been one giant eating fest between Thanksgiving and now. I was finally over my morning sickness by mid-November. And then Christian's birthday, Christmas, Teddy's birthday... And working out? _Forget it._

"So," says Courtney, "Mrs. Christian Grey, huh? He's quite the catch… what a hottie."

I usually don't let people bait me like this when it comes to Christian and me, but - once again - these women are going to be my neighbors. And I should really set the record straight from the beginning. "Well," I say, "I wouldn't say I 'caught' him. It's not like I was out on the prowl or something. We met at a mutual friend's party and we just... connected."

"I'll say," says Ashley, "you must have really - um - connected. Hooking up in April and having a baby in January? That's some hook-up."

I blush. Yes, thanks to some unfortunate news articles, it's not hard to figure out. And we'll never be able to deny the math when it comes to Teddy.

Now it's Gia's turn to chime in again. "I heard that he likes to keep you locked up in your ivory tower. In fact, I'm surprised to see you out and about."

"That's not true," I say indignantly. Okay, well it's kind of true. Technically, Christian doesn't know about today's outing. But surely he can't have a problem with it, right? I mean, Taylor's with me, but hopefully we can keep the R8 our little secret.

One of the children begins to whine about something, so their attention is diverted. I take the opportunity to take a bite of my muffin and a sip of my rapidly-cooling latte. I pick up a manuscript and remove the rubber bands. I am just starting to page through it when I hear Courtney's voice again.

"Wow," she says. "A little light reading?"

I look up from the dragon princess book. It _is_ about a princess who has a pet dragon. "Well - yes and no - these are manuscripts for children's books. So it's pretty light reading, but it's for work."

All three of them gasp and look at me. _Seriously? Have I grown horns?_ I automatically smooth my hand down my hair and ponytail. Nope, nothing has sprouted.

"You WORK?" gasps Ashley. " _Why?_ "

 _Oh here we go. What is this, the 1950's?_ I have had this same conversation with my husband many, many times, so I know my lines. I sigh and begin. "I work because I love it. Until last month, I was working full-time as a children's librarian in downtown Seattle." This makes their jaws drop even further. "Part of my job there was to review new acquisitions to the collection. And in doing so, I would post my thoughts on the library's website. This led to what is now my part-time job. I am an independent reviewer of new children's literature. It doesn't pay much," I roll my eyes and shrug, "but I can work when and where I like. And it's something that I really enjoy."

"Well," says Gia. "If you can pull yourself away from your _work_ , we have playdates on Wednesday mornings. We take turns hosting, and this week it's at my house. It's a good opportunity to meet other moms - there are about ten of us in total - and let your little one socialize."

 _Oh boy._ I had really been scheming about how to make an excuse and get out of here. But suddenly I am faced with a weekly commitment to these women. I sigh. Maybe they're not all that bad… just bored. And I am sure that the fascination with me - okay with my gorgeous husband - will fade. Soon, I won't be the center of attention. Right?

I plaster a fake smile on my face. "That sounds great. Teddy will love it."

Gia grins as we exchange phone numbers, and she promises to text me all the details.

"Well," I say, standing to gather my things. "It's been wonderful to meet you all, but I should really get back to my - um - ivory tower. Teddy will be up from his nap soon."

After a round of goodbyes and too-bright, fake smiles, I am on my way out. Gus graciously provides me with a pastry sleeve and to-go cup for the rest of my latte. He gives me a wink and a smile. I'm sure he saw the hostile take-over of my quiet time.

I nod at Taylor and know that he'll be following me out. He passes by as I am unloading my things into the R8.

"Not exactly what you had in mind?" He says out of the corner of his mouth.

"No," I admit, relaxing a little now that I am out of their direct line of fire. "The cabin is looking better and better."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

In spite of my hopes that Gia forgot about inviting me to the next playdate, I get a text message from her on Tuesday afternoon.

 _ **Don't forget our playdate!**_

 _ **Gia's house - Wed at 10 AM.**_

 _ **Bring your little one and some munchies to share!**_

 _Fuck fuckity fuck._

Taylor and I pull into the circular driveway of Gia's glass and steel architectural monument of a home at precisely 9:58. There were already three other luxury vehicles in the driveway.

What was it about these girls that make me automatically feel inadequate? I'd spent the last two years trying not to feel TOO rich in front of my friends and family, never completely comfortable with my change in lifestyle.

And now, surrounded by these super-moms, I feel like little Ana Steele again. I take a deep breath and look over at Taylor. He's smirking. Evidently he's taken over Christian's duty of teasing me in his absence.

 _Ok, Ana Grey, you've got this. Let's face it... these women have nothing on you. You and your adorable son are dressed to the nines in coordinating outfits. You actually took the time for a shower, hair and, make-up this morning. (Even if it meant getting up an hour earlier than normal to make it happen.) And your is husband probably younger, hotter, and richer than anyone else's. Not that you're keeping track._

I get out of the car, free Teddy from his car seat, take our bag from Taylor, and let out a huge sigh.

Taylor chuckles. "Have a good time with the super moms. I'll be right here. If you need me to call and bail you out, just text me."

I laugh. "Like a blind date?" Then nod and thank him, heading for the front door.

A wide, concrete walk curves organically through a lush arrangement of obviously landscaped plantings. It ends at a wide, concrete patio, but _where is the door?_ I could see alternating, vertical, steel and glass panels, but which one was the door? I set Teddy down, and he promptly walks over to a section of glass and presses his little hands and mouth to it. And then he starts licking the glass. Oh God... _where is the door?_

Suddenly, one of the steel panels opens and Gia appears. "You look lost!" She laughs. "Sorry, I forgot to warn you. This one is the door, and here's the doorbell." She points to a rectangular panel that's practically hidden next to the 'door.'

"Oh right..." I say, "I was just about to guess that." _No, I wasn't. I was lost while my child was putting his mark on the otherwise immaculate exterior of your home._

"We all saw Teddy in the window. He is just gorgeous... hello little man!" She gushes, bending over as far as she can in her skin-tight, geometric-print dress to greet him.

Teddy's eyes widen and he scurries to cower between my legs. My jean-clad legs. I had been feeling good in my new maternity skinny jeans and striped tunic top. Who knew the dress code for play dates was so... dressy? Aren't we supposed to sit on the floor and sing The Wheels on the Bus? Teddy tightens his grip on my leg. _I know, baby, she scares me too._

"Well come in, come in..." she says, shoo-ing us into the house. I walk-stagger past her as best I can with Teddy still between my legs and the diaper bag sliding off my shoulder.

And there they are. The rest of the super-moms. Courtney is also in a dress, and it's suspiciously similar to Gia's. Did they coordinate? Ashley is in a stylish, off-white blouse and skirt. Off-white. Is she crazy? I've found that the darker the clothes, the better.

"You know Courtney and Ashley," says Gia, breezing past me. "And this is Justice and her children, Sage and River." I smile and shuffle forward to shake her hand. Justice is tall and willowy, with a headful of tiny braids and a long, flowing skirt. Her children look to be wearing all organic cotton separates, and each is sporting one of those trendy amber necklaces. Ahh, it's not hard to place her... she's the token _crunchy mom_.

"Ana," she says warmly, "it's wonderful to meet you. These are my children, Sage and River. And your little one is..."

"Um, this is Teddy," I say. "He's two. How old are your, um, little ones?" _Shit._ I realize that I have no idea if they are boys or girls. Sage and River look to be about four and two, but other than the difference in size, the appear almost identical. They both have a crown of messy, dark curls, and are wearing gender-neutral clothing and tiny moccasins.

Justice smiles knowingly. "Sage is four and River is almost two. We've decided to let them find their own paths, and not burden them with society's gender labels.

"Oh, how wonderful!" I say, "that's so… _wow_." I glance down at Teddy who's wearing his favorite fire truck shirt, black athletic shorts, and Nikes. He's still gripping my legs with one hand. The other is wrapped around a toy car that he brought from home. Ohh, we've completely gendered him… _What if he's unhappy being labeled as a boy?_ Are we restricting his development? At that, Teddy makes a loud, wet spitting noise as he drives his car up the inside of my leg. "Ahhh!" I squeal as the little wheels tickle me. Okay, maybe he's all right. I mean, he's been exposed to 'girl' toys and… I grimace at a particular incident where he grabbed Ellie's favorite Barbie by the hair and promptly chucked her in the toilet.

"...so please help yourself." Justice is saying.

"I'm sorry," I blush, "He's…" I reach down and grab Teddy's hand before he manages to slam his car into my crotch.

"No problem," she croons. "I was just saying that I made these muffins from organic apples and hemp flour this morning. Please help yourself." _Hemp flour?_

I thank her and turn to eye the spread on Gia's massive, white marble breakfast bar. _Ohh, I was supposed to bring something to share. Shit. I have a mostly-full box of toddler animal crackers in the diaper bag… But then I cringe at the thought that they are probably packed with additives and preservatives. Ugh._

I hear the doorbell and look to see who's arriving. _At least she managed to find the doorbell._ Gia ushers in a young-looking mom in jeans and a hoodie. Her hair is in a messy bun, and she has two toddlers and a baby in a front carrier. She looks normal. And her children - all clearly boys - are loud and their faces a little sticky-looking. _Oh thank goodness._ She's obviously the _hot mess_ mom and I immediately know that I'm going to like her. And I'm also relieved that that particular slot in the 'mom food chain' has been filled.

Gia practically drags the poor thing over to me, and her two toddlers scatter, obviously comfortable and ready to wreak some havoc to Gia's interior. _Go boys!_

"Katie, this is Anastasia Grey," Gia says my name in an almost reverential tone. And I immediately know my role. I am the _new acquisition_ _mom_. Even if Gia has an almost superior attitude toward me to my face, I am obviously a prize to be bragged about.

"Anastasia, this is Katie Mitchell." says Gia, "her husband is a teacher at the elementary school?" She looks at me expectantly.

Oh! Mitchell… "Oh!" I say, "fifth grade, right? Our oldest daughter, Marissa, is in his class."

Gia is called over to the kitchen, leaving Katie and I to fend for ourselves, and I feel myself relax a little.

"And call me Ana," I say, "it's so nice to meet you."

"You too," she grins. And there's something different about her face - her eyes - and I realize that it's a genuine smile. She's friendly, open, and I am guessing she has no idea who my husband is. She doesn't strike me as the type to follow gossip columns or subscribe to glossy magazines. "And excuse me for saying this, but wow… you have a fifth grader?"

I chuckle. "Well technically she's my step-daughter. And my other step-daughter is in second."

She seems to relax at this news. "Ahh…" she says. "Okay. Well I thought you were about my age… most of the moms in this group are older and…" she shrugs, "all…"

"Put together?" I finish for her.

"Yes," she gushes, "Let's go sit down. My back is killing me wearing this lug of a baby and you…" she gestures toward my belly.

"That would be great," I say, and we head over to the tasteful grouping of light gray couches. Her boys, both in plaid shirts - one green, one blue - and jeans, are climbing across the back of one of the couches.

Katie deftly plucks the one in green off with one hand, the one in blue with the other, and sets them back on the floor. She then walks over to the coffee table and moves the glass (GLASS!) terrarium bowl filled with miniature cacti (CACTI!) to the mantle, out of reach of curious fingers.

She sinks gratefully onto one of the couches, pulling her youngest out of the carrier. He's wearing footie pajamas, as all normal babies should, and has the most adorable chubby cheeks.

"Are they twins?" I ask, pulling Teddy off my leg and onto my lap as I sit down beside her.

"Yes," she says, a little out of breath. "They're three," she says as if that explains it. "People talk about the terrible twos, but…"

We laugh and I tell her that I'm having twins this time around. She gives me some honest, down-to-earth advice and offers to give me some hands-on guidance when the time comes. She tells me that she was also worried about being able to tell them apart, but says it's not a problem with her own children. "I do usually color-coordinate them when we go out," she says, "so other people can keep them straight. Brody wears blue, Graham wears green, and this little guy - Finn - well, he wears lots of hand-me-downs."

We laugh and discover that we're both twenty-four, and that the twins were born during her and her husband's senior year of college. "We're both teachers… and we probably should have paid more attention to the 'sex education' section. I haven't even gotten the chance to get in the classroom," she says and she tucks a wayward strand of hair behind her ear.

We talk and laugh… about children's books, our children, our husbands… I tell her my best friend is Kate and how much I miss her. She tells me that she and her husband are both from Montana, attended UM Missoula. Her husband got this teaching job two years ago, and here they are. "We love it here even if we don't quite fit in…" she admits. "We live in a little cottage at the edge of downtown."

We're interrupted by a loud crash from the direction of the kitchen. Graham and Brody are standing guiltily in the middle of a pile of organic hemp muffins that has been knocked to the floor. Gia goes rushing over yelling in the direction of the back of the kitchen - the laundry room? "¡Puta, sal fuera!"

Immediately, a young girl of maybe twelve or thirteen years old appears, following Gia's pointing finger toward the mess on the floor. She begins to clean up the muffins, piling them back onto the tray.

Katie and I look at each other in shock for just a moment, seeming to ask each other _'Are you seeing this? Did you know about this?'_

Katie jumps up and goes to where her twins are still standing in the middle of the mess. "I'm so sorry... " she exclaims, pulling the twins out the way and kneeling down next to the girl. "Here, let me help you."

The girl visibly stiffens and I see a brief flash of her dark eyes before she looks back down at the floor, continuing with her task. Once all the muffins are on the tray, she scoots back into the room at the back of the kitchen, returning with a broom and dustpan.

I take just a moment to look around at the rest of the room. Everyone besides Katie and myself are completely ignoring the situation and the girl. They're chatting and helping themselves to more food and drink.

"I'm really sorry," repeats Katie, "They didn't mean to…"

Gia's voice carries over to us. "Puta, no habla. Termina."

The girl finishes sweeping, then - with her back turned to Gia - looks up at and me and Katie for just another brief moment. And in that moment, the look in the girl's eyes sends a shiver down my spine. What I see in her eyes is _fear._

Then, as quickly as she appeared, the girl is gone. She scuttles back into the room at the rear of the kitchen.

Katie herds her twins back over toward the couches, and I know that she's just as upset as I am. I can see her hands shaking as she digs out sippy cups for the boys.

"I minored in Spanish," she whispers, "and that… that was…" She shudders.

"What did Gia say to her?" I ask.

Katie looks up, checking to make sure that Gia isn't looking over at us. She isn't. It's like the whole thing never happened.

She said, "Bitch get out here. And then she told her not to talk and to finish up."

Oh God… I am not sure what is going on here in this monstrosity of a house, but it's not good. _It's not good at all._


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

"Do you think we should say something?" I whisper to Katie. "I mean… Did that really just happen?"

Katie looks nervous and bites her lip. _Something else we have in common…_

She looks over my shoulder, but this time she's not looking at Gia or the other super moms. I see her glancing toward Justice, who has seemed unshaken by the incident. She didn't even really react at the sight of her hemp muffins in a pile on the floor. She's casually filling a plate for one of her children, no doubt with other organic snacks.

"I don't… I don't know," she stammers, suddenly sounding unsure.

I sit back in my seat and decide to leave it alone for now. But you can bet that I won't forget about it.

Thankfully, Teddy starts to get cranky as soon as he's done eating, so I have an excuse to leave and we head back out to find Taylor in the SUV.

On the short drive back to the house, I tell him what I saw. He pulls in and parks the SUV and just sits quietly for a minute, considering what I've told him.

"Don't tell Christian, okay?" I ask. "I'll tell him when he gets home. I don't want to worry him while he's so far away."

I see Taylor's jaw clench for a moment, then relax. "Yes, ma'am. Now let's get you inside."

In the two weeks that pass until Christian's return, I avoid going to any more playdates. I make up excuses… I have to go into Seattle, Teddy has a cold… Taylor and I don't speak of it again, but I pretty much know he won't allow me to go anyway.

During the day, I convince myself that maybe it wasn't as bad as I thought. _Maybe the girl just looked young, maybe Katie misunderstood._ But at night, dark and frightened eyes haunt my dreams.

 **xoxox**

I'm awakened by a strong arm circling me, pulling me in close. I smile and breathe in the scent of him, take a moment to appreciate the way that his body feels against mine.

"Welcome back, Mr. Grey," I murmur, and flex my hips, pushing back against him.

He responds with a thrust of his own and I can feel that he's missed me and that he's very glad to see me. He starts kissing the back of my neck, one hand moving to cup my breast.

"I've missed you too," I whisper, "but you realize that there are three children sleeping in here? Not to mention the pair of employees on the other side of this wall?"

"Mmm... you're right, Mrs. Grey, and that is why I have a little surprise for you. Get up and wrap the quilt around you. We're going outside."

"Outside?!" I hiss. "Christian it's January... it's like twenty degrees out there. What time is it, anyway?"

"Relax, baby... just trust me. It's just after one in the morning. Taylor knows we're leaving... they'll keep an ear out for the children."

I want to ask more questions, but Christian is pulling me up, taking the quilt off the bed, wrapping it around me. Then he takes my hand and leads me from the room and out the front door of the cabin.

I hear the latch click behind us, and then I look up. A trail of candles, set in the thin glaze of snow, leads to the big house. They cast a flickering, golden glow and it's beautiful... mesmerizing. I just stand for a minute, taking it in.

"I'm not wearing any shoes," I giggle, looking down at my bare toes on the cabin porch.

Christian doesn't say anything, just reaches down and swoops me up in his arms. He walks carefully down the cabin steps, and along the candlelit path.

When we reach the main door of the big house, he carries me bridal-style across the threshold and into the entryway.

"We're not newlyweds, you know," I laugh, no longer trying to keep my voice down. "You've already got me where you want me... barefoot and pregnant. And I have been for some time now."

He laughs and sets me down. "Well a little romance never hurts, and I had to think of a reason to get you out of that crowded cabin. So I can get to where I really want to be."

I look around me and see that there's another trail of candles leading up the staircase. As we start up the stairs, I notice that they're little battery-operated ones this time.

"Wouldn't want to burn the place down on our first night here, now would we?" He chuckles.

"We're spending the night here?"

By this time, we have reached the upstairs landing, and are outside the door to what will be our master suite. I haven't been up here in over a week. They were painting, and no one wanted me to be around the fumes.

"You do the honors," he says, setting me down and gesturing to the closed door. "Open it."

I take a deep breath, turn the knob, and push the door open. "Ohhhh..." I say, as I walk forward into the room and then spin in a slow circle, looking around me. "It's finished?"

There are candles burning all around the room, which looks completely finished. There's no other furniture, but the dark wood, four-poster bed that I last saw in a catalog is in place. It's made up with ivory bed linens, a thick comforter, and about a dozen pillows.

"It's beautiful," I gasp. The walls are freshly painted, the floors and woodwork gleaming in the candlelight.

"Speaking of beautiful," he growls, walking to where I'm standing in the middle of the room, still wrapped in the quilt. He pushes the quilt off my shoulders, and it falls to the floor at my feet. "Let's have a look at you, Mrs. Grey."

I feel suddenly shy and exposed, in just one of his t-shirts and a pair of my cotton panties. I run a hand through my sleep-tousled hair. I knew he was coming come sometime tonight, and I should have prepared, worn something a little more...

"Ana, stop," he says, gripping my chin and pulling it up so his eyes meet mine - smoldering grey to blue. As usual, he knows me too well, knows my innermost thoughts and insecurities. "You. Are. Gorgeous," he says softly as his hands glide across my shoulders, down to my breasts. He cups them, feeling their weight, and leans in for a kiss. I part my lips and draw him in, our tongues dancing, re-discovering the taste of each other.

He moves his hands on down, sliding them across my swollen belly. "So much bigger," he says, and groans. "I've missed so much... three weeks was way too long... it was torture."

I giggle. "You saw us on FaceTime almost every day." And I blush, thinking of some of our more intimate sessions. The ones that took place after our children were in bed. The ones that conveniently fell during his 'lunch break' at his temporary office in Hong Kong. He would take off his tie, lean back in his desk chair, open his...

I'm interrupted from these thoughts as I feel Christian's hand even lower, as he palms my sex through my cotton panties. "Ahh!" I squeal as desire courses through my body, then settles in my throbbing center.

"FaceTime was fun," he says, "but this is better, don't you think?" He slips one finger inside my panties, slides it along my slit until he finds my opening, then stops. "Answer me," he commands.

Goosebumps break out all across my body, but they're not from being cold. I'm overcome with desire for his man, my husband. I don't think I can speak, but I have to, or he won't keep going. And I might just combust here on the spot.

"Yes," I pant, my fingernails digging into his muscular back.

"Yes, what? Tell me."

"Yes, this is better... having you here, being together, touching... it's better... _so much better_ ," I practically yell out.

He must be satisfied with my answer, because he thrusts his finger deeply inside me, moving it in and out. He grips my hair at the back of my head with his other hand, leaning in to kiss me deeply, his tongue practically in my throat. "I can tell it is, baby, you're so wet for me. You're so ready... just like you always are."

 _Then why did you insist that I tell you?_ I want to say, but his tongue is still deep in my mouth and he's pushing my body toward the bed. And then all thoughts of a snarky comeback fade as I feel the edge of the bed behind my legs.

He pulls my t-shirt over my head, then shoves my panties down my legs, and I am totally naked before him. I vaguely note that he is still completely dressed in his business attire as he grips me under the arms and lifts me onto the bed.

I lay back - ooh this bed is soft and divine - the sheets smooth and cool on my now-heated skin. I smile as I watch him hurriedly unfasten his belt, his pants, untuck his shirt. He pulls off his shoes, and I hear them clatter against the floor as he climbs on the bed to straddle my legs.

"You're too dressed," I whine. I want to feel my husband's warm skin against mine, not the fabric of his clothing.

He looks a little exasperated - my man is in a hurry - but he quickly undoes the buttons on his shirt, takes off his cufflinks, slides them in the pocket of his pants. He pushes up and pulls off his pants and boxer briefs in one swift movement, before trying to settle back on top of me, his mouth reaching for mine again.

But my protruding belly doesn't budge, and he chuckles - partly in frustration and partly in amusement. "I see we're at this stage of the game already."

"Mmm..." I say, shrugging, "twins, remember?"

He smiles, and stands, pulling me to the edge of the bed, then spreading my legs wide. "Yes, twins," he says, "and the two of them are not going to keep me from what I want."

And with that, he moves in close between my legs, positioning himself at my opening, then thrusts deeply inside me.

I throw my head back, bite down on the back of my hand, and moan in appreciation of the feeling of him filling me. _Finally... three weeks really was too long._

He begins to pull back, then thrust forward... again and again, picking up the pace. He's so deep and I start to build, and I cry out in pleasure.

"Okay, baby?" He asks, slowing a little, his face etched with concern. "Is it too much?"

I shake my head vigorously, "No... it's fine... so good... don't stop!"

He grins and resumes his pounding, and I hear the slap of him against me. My legs are starting to feel the strain of keeping them spread at the edge of the bed, so I wrap them around Christian's back.

This slight change of position has him hitting that spot deep inside me, and I'm building quickly, going too fast... I'm not going to last much longer, and it feels so... "Christian," I gasp, "I'm gonna..." And I explode, coming apart at the seams, sensation rippling out from my core through my body.

He's still thrusting desperately, but as my walls tighten around him, I hear him grunt as he tips over the edge. He rocks one last time into me and I feel his warmth spread inside me.

He gently probes a few more times, but he's softening, slipping out of me. I giggle and unwrap my legs, letting them dangle over the edge of the bed. I melt back onto the mattress as Christian leans forward to kiss my belly softly. "See? Daddy got his way and we're going to get along just fine."

I laugh as he pulls back and goes into the adjoining master bath, bringing back a towel to clean us both up.

We snuggle into the sumptuous bed, properly under the sheet and comforter this time. A few of the pillows have been tossed onto the floor, and now it's perfect.

I roll onto my side, suddenly feeling sleepy and very sated. Christian settles along my back, his length a solid and comforting presence. I feel his legs tangle with mine, his hand smooth my hair away from my face, his lips softly kiss my temple, and I drift...

When I open my eyes again, the room is filled with soft morning light. It's gray and overcast, a typical Northwest winter day. From our bed, there's an amazing view of the water... the gray waves stretching to the misty foothills of the Olympic mountain range. I stretch and roll over, taking in an equally amazing view. My naked husband is sprawled on his back, fast asleep, the sheet just low enough to reveal his happy trail in the vee between his hips. I sit up partway, intending to sink my lips into one of my favorite parts of his body. But a shift in my belly and pressure on my bladder brings me back to reality.

I heft myself up and out of bed, moving carefully so as not to disturb my sleeping husband. Once I'm standing, I pause to drink him in for just another moment. He looks young, and so peaceful in his sleep. His face is relaxed, his lips slightly parted. His hair is a little long, his face a bit stubbled, but he is so, so beautiful.

My bladder protests again, and I scurry into the bathroom, quickly relieving myself while looking around the room. The bathroom is painted a light teal blue, a contrast to the golden ivory of our bedroom.

Darker teal and ivory patterned towels and accessories tie into the decor. I glimpse into the double shower, seeing through the glass doors that it's fully stocked with our usual toiletries. I know without checking that the vanity drawers hold more of the same.

I smile, knowing that Gail has been busy getting this all set up for us. Sneaky, sneaky...

I run my fingers along the sand-colored, marble countertop, washing my hands in one of the two sinks.

I check out my reflection in the mirror. Just as I suspected, my hair is a tangled mess. I turn to the side and scowl at the shiny stretch marks that have appeared at the sides of my belly in the past couple of weeks. I didn't really get them with Teddy, but this time - of course - my body is expanding at an even more alarming rate.

I lean forward to inspect my face, and see that - in spite of everything else - I look... satisfied.

I see some movement in the mirror, and Christian comes up behind me, sliding his hands around my middle. "You look divine," he says, "I can't believe you're twenty-six weeks already."

"It feels like thirty-six," I sigh. "I'm so huge already."

"Mmm... and I love every inch of it." He murmurs against my shoulder, his lips tickling against my bare skin. "We've taken care of the bed... Now care to christen the new shower with me?"

I smile. "What time is it? Shouldn't we be getting back?"

"Just after seven. I texted Gail, and she'll feed the children," he says, now working his lips down the curve of my back. "You've put up with so much these past few weeks, baby. Let me take care of you this morning."

"Mmmm..." I moan, helpless under the influence of his expert mouth, and follow him into the shower.

 **xoxox**

Once we get dirty and clean again, I dry off and find a fluffy robe on the back of the door. Christian already has one on, and he leaves the bathroom, giving me a wink as he goes.

What is he up to now? He opens the door into the hallway and leans over to pick something up. When he turns back around, I see that it's a breakfast tray. The sight of it combined with the smell of bacon makes my stomach rumble in appreciation.

We have our feast in the middle of the bed - fluffy pancakes dripping with syrup, bacon, fresh fruit, tea for me and black coffee for Christian.

"Now this is the life," I tease, wondering how long we can stay in our little love nest. Also, what am I going to wear when we finally make our way back to the cabin. It's daytime now, and we'll have an audience. Christian has clothes, but right now my choices are limited to a robe or a quilt over my t-shirt and underwear. "Christian, what am I going to wear back to the cabin?" I ask, licking some syrup off my fingers.

"Let me do that," he says, taking my fingers into his mouth one by one. "I wouldn't let you go naked, baby. Go look in the closet." He gestures to the larger of our two walk-in closets.

I get up and go over to it, open the door. And I find all of our clothes neatly arranged. I think everything I own - except for the small amount I brought to the cabin - is in here. My clothes fill one side, Christian's fill the other.

My maternity clothes are hung separately from the others, and I spot several with tags that I don't recognize. Hmm, Caroline Acton, our personal shopper, has been busy too.

I smile when I see my favorite dress, a dark blue, velvet maternity evening gown. I wore this to the GEH Christmas party, just a few weeks before Teddy was born. Christian was so proud of having me on his arm that night, showing me - and his unborn son - off to everyone.

"That was a fun night," he says, and I turn to look at him.

"It was," I sigh, moving on to inspect some of my work clothes. "I guess I don't need a lot of these this time around. I've been living in long t-shirts and yoga pants."

"I might find some excuses to take my beautiful wife out on the town," he says. "Before we have two newborns taking up all our time and attention. But for today, find something comfy to wear? And we'll go find our family."

We get dressed quickly, both choosing jeans and sweaters. And can tell that he's now anxious to see his children. It's been three weeks since he's seen them too.

We make our way back to the cabin. I have shoes on this time, and the candlelit pathway has been spirited away.

It's not quite as magical as last night, but the misty day is quiet and peaceful. I love it up here at our new house, away from the noise and bustle of the city.

As soon as we open the cabin door, we're greeted with a blast of noise and excitement. The girls bolt from the stools and the breakfast bar and come running for Christian. Teddy begins to holler from his high chair, banging on the tray. Gail quickly wipes off his sticky face and and hands, lifts him out. As soon as his footie-pajama feet hit the floor, he makes his own beeline to Christian, chanting "Daddy… daddy…" the whole way. I just stand back and laugh, glad to see my family back together again.

Once the excitement dies down, and the children settle in on the floor to play with the toys Christian brought them from Taiwan, we sit around the round table in the dining area. Gail brings another round of tea and coffee.

Taylor gives me a look and my stomach knots up immediately. I need to talk to Christian about what I saw. It's time. So, in a low voice, I recall the events from the playdate.

Christian's brow furrows and he looks from me to Taylor.

"I've already made some inquiries, Sir," says Taylor.

I scowl at him. He has? Of course he has… and secretly I am relieved.

"How was the new master suite, Ana?" Gail asks innocently., changing the subject.

I blush. She knows why we spent the night up there. "It was great," I squeak. "Thank you so much for getting it ready for us. It was a wonderful surprise."

"We found it very enjoyable," smirks Christian. And I blush again. "So Elliot said that one of the other bedrooms and one bathroom are ready as well?"

They launch into a discussion about the progress on the renovations, make plans to move the children's furniture up there later on today.

 **xoxox**

By that night, the bunk beds and Teddy's crib are all moved in to what will be Marissa's room. Like ours, it's freshly painted and the light blue color she picked is lovely.

Teddy sees his crib in one corner as we get him changed for bed. "Teddy room?" He asks, his little brow scrunching up.

"Your room is going to be next door, Teddy. Uncle Elliot is going to get it finished up for you." I say.

He nods, his face serious.

"And we're going to get you a big boy bed, right?" I ask.

"No, my bed." He says, pointing to the crib with one chubby finger.

"That crib is going to be for one of the new babies," I say. "And we're getting another one to match."

Teddy looks unsure, and his gaze looks back and forth between my belly and his crib.

"No, no, mama," he says.

I don't try and talk about it anymore tonight, I just pull him close. He can be my baby for just a little longer. Or at least my aching mama heart can hope. _Oh my baby boy..._

 **xoxox**

"Who are Christian and Taylor talking to in the office?" I ask Gail as we dish up lunch in the new kitchen a few days later. "They've been in there over an hour."

"I'm not sure," says Gail, shrugging. "It's a man and a woman, kind of official looking. Maybe something about security?"

I frown. I know that Taylor is still watching out for our security, but up here it's easy to forget about what's happened in the past. And we haven't had to deal with paparazzi on a daily basis for awhile.

"Gail," Taylor comes in and interrupts my thoughts. "Can you please have coffee to serve in the dining room in twenty minutes? We're going to move in there."

Gail nods and begins to get out the supplies for making a fresh pot of coffee.

"And this concerns both of you," he continues. "Is Teddy napping?"

"Um, yes," I say, "What is this about, Taylor?"

He gives a small shake of his head. "Twenty minutes," he says again, and leaves to return to Christian's office.

Okay, this is really strange. Have we done something to breach security? Or is there a reason that we'll have to tighten things down? _Or is this about a young girl with dark, frightened eyes?_

Gail and I prepare the coffee and a plate of muffins, and have just finished arranging everything in the dining room when I hear the door to Christian's office open. Christian, Taylor, and two people in dark suits come in.

"Gail, Ana," Taylor begins. "These are agents Baylor and Grant with the FBI. Agents Baylor and Grant, these are Mrs. Anastasia Grey and my wife, Mrs. Gail Taylor."

Oh God, there are two FBI agents _in my dining room._

I keep my cool and greet the male agent first, reaching forward to shake his hand. He's middle-aged, with dark eyes. He's face is somber, but not unfriendly. I can't shake the feeling that he's sizing me up - analyzing me. That's because he's from the bureau of investigation, stupid!

I turn my attention to the female agent and I let out a gasp of surprise. The woman standing in front of me has honey-colored skin, and closely-clipped hair. I blink and I see her in a flowy skirt and long braids, two curly-haired children at her feet.

 _Holy shit… it's the crunchy mom._


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

I'm speechless for several moments as my brain catches up with my eyes. "Ju-Justice?" I stutter. "You're the crunchy mom from the playdate!"

She throws back her head and laughs, "Crunchy mom… I love it. I guess I was convincing, then." She sobers under Agent Baylor's gaze and composes herself, straightening her jacket and reaching out to shake my hand "Agent Julie Grant, FBI."

I shake her hand and then turn and gesture to the dining room table. "Please, agents, have a seat and help yourself to some refreshments."

Agent Baylor helps himself to coffee, seemingly deep in thought as he adds sugar and creamer. Finally, he sits back and begins. "Before we leave today, I will need to have NDAs signed by everyone here. Nothing said in this room can be repeated. Are we clear?"

We all nod in agreement. _I mean, this is the FBI, so we don't really have a choice._

"Mrs. Grey," he says, "it has come to our attention that you are friends with a Mrs. Gia Matteo?"

 _What? Okay, where are we going with this?_ "Um," I stutter, "we have socialized a few times." Then I smirk, "She may consider us to be friends, but since nothing leaves this room? I can't say that the feeling is mutual."

My smirk is returned with a tight smile. "You are not fond of Mrs. Matteo?"

"She's... a neighbor, and her husband is our architect, so I am doing my best to keep the peace. But no, I am not personally fond of her."

"Can I ask why not?"

I shrug. "Well, at first it was just that she and her friends are very into... appearances. And honestly, I am not comfortable around them."

"So it's because of their personalities, their interests?"

I frown. "Yes, but that's not all. I take it you and Taylor have discussed what I saw at her home?"

He nods. "Yes, but we'd like to hear it from you. From the beginning if you don't mind."

I take in a shaky breath and wipe my suddenly sweaty palms on my pants, looking over at Christian who's at the head of the table.

"From the first time I met them, it seemed like they were banded together… like they had a special secret between them. It was nothing obvious - just little looks, little smiles. And I just thought they were trying to make me feel… inferior. But now… but now I think it's more than that. I think they're really hiding something. Maybe even something bigger than what I saw."

He nods. "I think you have excellent instincts, Mrs. Grey. Can you elaborate and tell us why you think this? And tell us exactly what you saw and heard?"

"Well, when I was at Gia's - Mrs. Matteo's - house, she had a domestic helper. And maybe I'm wrong, but she seemed very young. And even more shocking than that, the way that Gia talked to her…" I shudder. "Katie's twins - "

"Katie Mitchell?" Agent Baylor interrupts.

"Yes, Katie's twins knocked over a big platter of muffins, and Gia yelled for the girl to come clean up the mess. The girl appeared out of the back room - seemingly out of nowhere - and Gia spoke very sharply to her. Katie apologized to the girl and offered to help. But the girl seemed frightened. It all happened so quickly… and it wasn't until she was gone again that Katie told me what Gia said. She speaks Spanish, so…"

"Go on..." Baylor is now furiously scribbling notes.

"So she told me what Gia said to the girl… which was something like 'Bitch get out here' and then 'no talking and finish up.' I wanted to say something, but then Katie kind of froze up and I felt like I shouldn't." I stop and look up at Justice… _I mean Julie… I mean Agent Grant._ And I remember the look that passed between them. "Was she taking direction from you?"

"Yes," she says, "we've been working with Katie Mitchell for a couple of months now. She's caught glances of a few different women and young girls. What we saw the other day - with you - was the most interaction we have witnessed."

"Wait, are you both undercover agents?" I ask.

"No, she really is who you met. But we have been working with her, asking her to make observations. The fact that she speaks Spanish is an advantage, and we're trying not to let the other women know that about her. We're hoping to keep them talking in front of her."

"So what you saw the other day… isn't that enough? Surely you can take action now? I have been worried sick over that poor girl." I say.

Agent Baylor sets down his pen, tents his hands. "Mrs. Grey, we wish it were that simple, but we aren't ready to blow the cover off this thing just yet. We have reason to believe that these women are a major port for human trafficking."

I gasp. "A port?"

"Yes," he says, "a port for receiving… shipments."

Shipments? Shipments of _people_? I mean, sure I have heard of human trafficking. But here in Snohomish County among these housewives? I picture a dark warehouse on a dock somewhere, not these opulent homes with moms and kids in coordinating knitwear.

"I don't understand," I say, "Why do they need to do this? Surely these women can afford a housekeeper if they need one."

"Of course, but it's more than that. Human trafficking can be a very lucrative business. Especially if they are dealing in the number and size of 'shipments' that we suspect."

"What numbers are we talking about here?" I ask.

"We are not certain, but we believe it's in the range of two to three hundred annually."

"Whoa… why so many? Is there that much demand?"

"Yes and no… there is more demand than you would think. But unlike slavery in the past - and yes, this is modern slavery - these people are bought and sold cheaply. They're - for lack of a better term - disposable."

Bile rises in my throat and my hand flies up to cover my mouth. _That little girl… those frightened eyes. What's her story? Where did she come from and what will happen to her?"_

Officer Baylor continues. "And unlike in the past, where slaves were a status symbol and counted in censuses, these people are kept mostly hidden. So it's hard to know the exact numbers or what happens to them."

"So you're just watching and waiting?" I ask. "You're waiting for Agent Grant or Katie to find out about a… shipment?"

"We were hoping that Katie Mitchell or Agent Grant would be invited into their inner circle, but they don't have quite the… _status_ that you offer."

"Whoa, stop right there," says Christian. I look up and his eyes are wide, his mouth a tight line. "You can question her all you want, even under oath if you must, but my wife is not going to act as some sort of mole. She's pregnant - with twins - for God's sake."

"Mr. Grey," says Agent Grant, "we understand that. But what you have to understand is that many, many lives are at risk here. We're simply asking her to watch and listen. To attend playdates and go on outings when she's invited to do so. We would be on guard at all times. If she could wear a wire…"

"And you have to understand this," says Christian, "Not. While. She's. Pregnant. And maybe not at all."

I raise my hands to break up their power struggle. "Hello? I'm sitting right here. Agents, of course I'm willing to help. What did you have in mind?"

Christian turns his glare from Agent Grant to me. "Ana, I don't…"

"Christian, let's just hear them out, okay?" I plead, again seeing those frightened dark eyes in my head.

He lets out an exasperated huff. "And what if she gets caught? If these women are as dangerous and heartless as you claim, my wife could be put in real danger."

We are all quiet for a minute, caught up in our own thoughts. "Maybe…" I begin, "maybe we can compromise? I can see them in public places for the time being. And then I can try and do more after the twins are born?"

I look around the table and now no one looks happy, but at least no one's openly protesting my idea. Gail looks and me, then reaches across and take my hand. She'll support me in whatever I decide.

"And I won't take Teddy," I say quickly. "Or the twins after they arrive. I'll make an excuse to leave them behind."

"And how long until your due date, Mrs. Grey?" asks Agent Baylor.

I lean back, running my hands over my belly. "Three months at the most? Likely it will be a little early since it's twins?"

He nods, looks over at Agent Grant who also nods. "Thank you, Mrs. Grey. We'll leave our cards, and we'll be in touch."

"Wait," I say, a thought occuring to me. "How do they get these people to come here in the first place? Is someone kidnapping them? It just seems like if this is happening on such a large scale…"

Agent Grant interjects this time. "In most cases, there is someone who travels around - sometimes in this country, sometimes in other countries - and finds individuals to target. They are usually not taken by force. Sometimes it's the street kid who's offered a warm bed and a hot meal or a ride. Sometimes it's the promise of companionship to the girl who's always been the outsider."

I nod. "It seems like this girl must be from another country? She didn't seem to speak English and she seemed so… _alone_."

"We believe that, in this particular operation, the women and girls are mostly being brought from Mexico and other Latin American countries. They have people - usually women who appear well-off and come off as sympathetic - who go into families' homes. They go into the homes of families who might be struggling to feed their children. They offer their daughters the promise of a better life - a job as a dometic with money to send home, and an education."

"But that's not what they get when they arrive," I say.

"No, they arrive straight into Hell. They're isolated, abused, and… worse."

"So Gia and her friends are traveling to Latin America? I mean, how? They all have young families. I haven't heard of any of them traveling like that."

"No, we think someone else is heading things up on the other end. And we believe that person is Gia Matteo's mother. She also owns a home not far from here, and it may be the 'port' that we've been trying to find." Agent Grant reaches into her folder and pulls out a photograph, and slides it over to me.

It's a glossy headshot of a middle-aged woman who's tried to hide her age with too much plastic surgery and blonde hair dye. But I can tell that she was a beauty once, and I can see a bit of Gia around the eyes.

"She goes by Elinor Landry now, but it's a pseudonym. She was previously known as Elena Lincoln."

I shake my head. "No, I've never heard of…" And then I look up at my husband. His red and angry face is now chalky white. And all I can think is, like with the mention of the name _Leila Williams_ , his past has reared its ugly head once again.

 _Oh, what now?_


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

It's like the air has been sucked out of the room. Maybe it's from the tension radiating off my husband, or the fact that everyone has frozen in place… and I realize - as the sides of my vision start to get fuzzy - that I'm holding my breath.

I let out a slow breath, then fill my lungs again… in and out. _Just breathe, Ana._

I think back to what he's told me about Elena Lincoln… the woman - the child molester - who I've nicknamed the Bitch Troll in my mind.

We were at his house while I was recovering from being attacked, and I was in the bathtub while he perched on the side, talking. He opened up so much to me in those few days. He told me about his time as a submissive, that a neighbor seduced him when he was fifteen. He was her submissive for three years, finally cutting the ties with her when he met Chelsea at college.

"Christian," I say softly after a minute has passed. "Christian, you're going to have to tell them what you know about her. It might help…" I stop, seeing that his face is tight, but resolved.

He nods once and leans forward slightly, pressing his hands flat on the table.

He slowly begins to speak, recounting his history with Elena Lincoln. He speaks softly and evenly, not betraying the stress or embarrassment he must be feeling. He tells about Elena seducing him at age fifteen, about the years of being her submissive.

He doesn't go into details about their sessions, but emphasizes how cunning and deceitful she was. How she is a person who can get others to trust her, drawing them in deep. She doesn't show her true colors until the person is so ensnared in her web that it's impossible to escape. Or nearly impossible… Christian did escape, but with what permanent damage? If he hadn't found and fallen for Chelsea, where would he be today? Would he still be suffering abuse? _Would he have become an abuser himself?_

He talks about how it wasn't until Marissa was born that he saw Elena Lincoln for the abuser and child molester that she was. That she still is?

Craving control in the chaos following Chelsea's death, he did return to the BDSM lifestyle - his safe zone - but he did it as a Dominant with consenting submissives.

"And then," he says, his eyes finally brightening, "I fell for a beautiful girl in a yellow bikini, and my life changed again." His eyes meet mine, and I am that shy girl in the hot tub again, trapped in his smoldering gaze. I blush and squirm, pressing my thighs together… Oh my. So much has changed since then, _but some things haven't changed at all._

Officer Baylor clears his throat, reminding us that we're not alone in the room. _Fuck, the FBI is sitting right here. And they're investigators, which is one step below mind-readers._ "So, your last contact with Mrs. Lincoln was when you were around eighteen years old?"

"Well, that's when I broke off our - arrangement - " says Christian, "and that's the last time I spoke to her directly… but I'm afraid that we have a bit more history."

Oh now what? He told me that he was never with her again, that he broke all ties. But I also know that he would have been in training for some period of time as a new Dominant. _Surely he didn't seek her out…_

"Four years ago, I orchestrated the hostile takeover of a timber company - um, Lincoln Timber to be exact. I suppose it was partly smart business - I made a great deal of money by selling off the parts. But it was, of course, partly personal revenge." He shifts in his seat, suddenly looking uncomfortable. "Three months after the dissolution of his company, Linc - Mr. Lincoln - took his own life."

I gasp, but notice that the agents are both nodding. They know that Mr. Lincoln committed suicide, and about the circumstances leading up to his death.

"And his widow - Elena Lincoln - was left with a large home, but no income. Her name was associated with a man who was weak enough to lose his company and then shoot himself," says Agent Grant. "So she became a new woman - Elinor Landry - and began to build a new life for herself."

"And this life included her now-married daughter, Gia?" I ask. "Did you know her - before - Christian?"

He shrugs. "Not really. She was a few years younger than me, and I really only saw her a few times in large social gatherings. She was a pretty, blonde girl and was mostly away at boarding school during the time that I was involved with her mother. Looking back, I suppose that Elena kept us apart on purpose." He smirks. "A younger, prettier version of herself… but I was under Elena's spell and I really didn't think about other women - or girls - during that time."

"So we believe that 'Elinor Landry' became involved - somehow - in human trafficking, and worked her way up to a position of power. How people first become involved in this industry varies, but we can imagine that she was simply seeking inexpensive domestic help for herself in the beginning," says Agent Grant.

"And then she realized that there was money to be made?" I ask.

"Yes, and so we believe that she started making connections and eventually made her way into the center of the operation, eventually involving her daughter."

"And her friends?" I ask.

"We're unsure as to how much Courtney and Ashley know," says Agent Grant. "Certainly, they take advantage of inexpensive, underage, domestic help. And they know that Gia has connections in supplying them with the girls. But, we are still investigating what they know beyond that."

My head is swimming with all of this new information, and I put my head in my hands, unable to take in much more.

"I think my wife has had enough for today, if you will excuse her," I hear Christian say. And it's not a question. He's back to being my authoritative husband, in control of his life and his family who he has vowed to keep safe.

I stand and mumble good-byes to the agents, promising to provide whatever help I can. Then I find my way out of the room and upstairs, sinking into my bed and letting sleep take me.

 **xoxox**

The next several weeks are uneventful, but I am constantly on edge… waiting to see something, waiting for something big to happen. As instructed, I attend coffee outings and playdates,

always comforted by the presence of Agent Grant, also known as Justice, the crunchy mom. In a few snatches of conversation, she has told me that 'Sage' and 'River' are her real children, and that they are - in fact - girls.

No one seen any more young girls in any of the homes, but after 'getting lost trying to find the bathroom' I caught a glimpse of a bare mattress in the corner of Courtney's utility room. The agents are concerned that the super moms are extra-cautious after the incident at Gia's house. Either they've gotten rid of the girls or they're keeping them hidden. _But how or where?_

 **xoxox**

It's nearly midnight, but I can't sleep. Lately I have been exhausted, collapsing into bed as soon as the children are in bed. Finally - thankfully - they are all in their own bedrooms, and the nursery is also starting to come together. With a month - or less - to go, there's no time to waste. Without knowing if they're boys or girls, we have gone with a simple green and white room. We've bought a second white crib to match Teddy's, and some of his more neutral baby clothing is washed and ready in the white wardrobe.

I heft myself out of bed, being careful not to wake Christian, and make my way down to the kitchen. The room isn't completely finished, but it's functional. I start pulling covered dishes out, and it all looks amazing. Leftover hot dogs and potato salad from grilling out over the weekend, some chili… I make a plate of all of it, heaping chili on one of the hot dogs. I dig in and, feeling much better, head back up to bed.

At five o'clock in the morning, I am woken by the worst indigestion. I can't help letting out a groan of discomfort as I roll over.

"Ana?" Christian rolls over to meet me, looking half asleep but concerned. "Are you okay? Is it the babies?"

"Mmm…" I moan. "No, I think it was the chili dog."

"The chili dog?"

"I might have had a little midnight snack," I grimace, embarrassed.

He chuckles and rubs my belly. "These babies are causing trouble again. I bet they're boys… big appetites and full of mischief."

I laugh and look down at myself. "Well, boys or girls, I think they'd better arrive sooner than later. I can't imagine getting much bigger than this." It's true… I can't even see past the dome of my belly. I thought that my size with Teddy was impressive, but that was nothing.

"Okay," I say, rolling back to my side and letting Christian spoon me. "indigestion or not, I've got to get some sleep."

I toss and turn, slipping in and out of sleep - my belly groaning and complaining - for the next couple of hours. I feel a cool hand on my forehead, and when I open my eyes, it's my beautiful husband all ready for work in a crisp gray suit. "I'm headed into the office," he says, "if you're sure you're okay?"

"Yep," I say emphatically, trying to look alive. "Just a little sleepy still… my stomach kept waking me up. Gail has the children?"

"Yep, I think blueberry pancakes are keeping them occupied for now." He leans down and gives me a soft kiss. I grab the sides of his face, pull him in, slide my tongue past his lips.

He chuckles as he pulls back. "Well you see pretty lively to me," he growls, his eyes darkening.

I giggle and fall back onto the pillows. _Gotta keep him guessing._ "Goodbye, my love. Hurry home. I'll be here waiting for you."

I doze on and off again, and then a sharp jab of indigestion wakes me fully. I frown when I see that it's almost ten o'clock. Ugh, now I am officially being lazy. I roll out of bed and make my way to the bathroom. I am just inside the doorway when I feel a gush of fluid down my leg.

 _Ohh… here we go._ I pull my nightgown back and see the clear puddle forming at my feet. Someone's water just broke… this is it. Ready it or not, these babies are going to make their debut at thirty-five weeks. My legs start to shake, and I really want to lie down… I hobble back to the bed and grab my cell. I eye my soft bed, then make my way back to the bathroom, sinking down to the tile floor. Another sharp pain of indigestion - okay, maybe not indigestion - rips through my belly and a feel a bulging between my legs. What in the… ? I reach down, pulling my cotton panties aside, and I can feel it. The unmistakable, hard, wet feeling of a baby's head. _Shit._

 **A/N: Thank you so much for reading… I hope that you are enjoying this story so far. I read and respond to every review, so let me know what you think! We all know what's coming up next… but will it be boys or girls ?**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

 _Shit, shit, shit… No..._

As the pain recedes, I feel the head slip back inside. _Ooh… okay… no, no don't panic..._ I just need to call Gail. I don't know if they're in the kitchen… or outside. I am normally grateful that sound doesn't travel too well from the master suite - for obvious reasons - but not today.

With shaking, fumbling fingers, I find Gail's name on my phone and push 'call.'

"Ana!" she answers cheerily. "We're just outside enjoying this beautiful day. Want to come join us?"

"Um," I squeak. "I'd love to, but… I think there's - um - a head coming out of me."

There's a brief pause. "What did you say?"

"My water just broke and I think there's a head coming out." I repeat. "Can you call 911 and come up here? To my bathroom?"

"Yes… yes… Oh God..." I hear her say as she hangs up.

I lean my head back against the wall and just try to breathe. _What am I supposed to do here? Keep my legs together? I smirk when I realize that maybe I should've just done that in the first place…_

Within a couple of minutes, Gail comes rushing in, talking on her phone. "Yes, she said the head is coming out… How long?"

She pauses, listening, and then turns to me "Ana, how are you doing? Any changes? They're on their way."

I shake my head and grimace as another pain grips me. I reach down and again feel the hard, slick top of my baby's head for just a moment before it disappears again.

Gail sits down beside me, still keeping the call connected. "They said five to ten minutes. I opened the gate already, and Marissa will let them in."

"And Christian?" I ask. "We should call him… and they're all the way in the city." _Oh no. He's going to miss it._

Gail nods and takes my phone from me, lets the dispatcher know she's making another call. She calls Taylor, not Christian… I smirk because that is probably what I would have done in her situation. Taylor will be nearby and knows how to defuse Christian in stressful situations. I hear her begin to relay the situation to Taylor before her words fade out as another pain comes. I don't even bother feeling between my legs again. A burning sensation tells me what I need to know. We don't have a lot of time. This baby is going to be born right here, in this bathroom, without Christian here to see it. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes. _Why did I send him off to work this morning? How could I have not known what was happening?_

Gail grips my hand and we sit… waiting… "Distract me," I plead. "Tell me something that happened this morning."

Gail thinks for a moment, then smiles. "Teddy was admiring the sparkly rainbow on Ellie's shirt. He knows ALL his colors, you know," she says proudly. "And he kept tugging at his own shirt saying 'shit, shit?' And the girls were giggling. And Ellie says 'your shirt is plain green, Teddy.' And then he's like 'Plane? Wanna see!' and he started spinning around trying to see the airplane on his shirt." She laughs. "Poor Teddy."

I giggle, thankful for the distraction. And then I hear heavy footsteps coming through the bedroom. Oh thank goodness. If this baby or - I shiver - babies are going to be born in this bathroom, at least it will be with a medical professional.

I see two tall black boots and a pair of tan canvas pants appear. The figure crouches down beside me and I can see that he's a very well-built - okay, HOT - firefighter. Well, hello… even in my compromised position, and knowing that he's about to see all my parts, I can't help but appreciate him for just a moment. "Well good morning," he says. "I'm Ben Warren. And what can we help you with?" He smiles, his chocolate eyes twinkling.

I can't help but smile back. "Well you can get this baby out of me, although I think it's coming pretty much on its own. My water broke maybe twenty minutes ago? And I can feel the head."

"Okay," he says calmly, easing me all the way down on the floor. "This is your fourth? I had to fight my way through the crowd downstairs," he jokes.

"No," I shake my head, "second. Just the two-year-old…" and I can't talk anymore, explain that it's early, that it's twins… I just feel his hands as he removes my panties, then pressure... Then a release. I lay my head back on the cool tiles, feel Gail's hand on my forehead. And finally, after what seems like forever, a gasping sound… and then an angry cry fills the bathroom.

"It's a girl" Ben cries, laughing. "She's beautiful, breathing well… but she's a little one…" His eyes take in the size of my belly compared to the tiny baby in his hands. He frowns, "Is she premature?"

A girl! It's a girl… is all I can think. We're going to have FOUR daughters. Okay, focus, Ana. "She's five weeks early and… I should probably tell you that she's a twin."

His eyes widen for just a moment. "Oh! Another one… Do you think it's coming right away?"

I shrug and look back at him. _I don't know… you're the medical professional here!_

He laughs. "Oh my wife is not going to believe this one. I am still in training, rolling my eyes at this 'boring rural rotation' and look what happens." He smiles and places my daughter on my chest, and I feel her nuzzle in. _She's so tiny!_ "You better say hello to this little one before there's more work to do."

Gail and I take a moment to coo over our newest family member. She has a swirl of dark hair and sweet rosebud lips. I am in awe of her… I was convinced that the babies would be boys, but here she is. My tiny, perfect, new daughter. She opens and closes her mouth, turning her head back and forth. "That was pretty dramatic, little girl," I whisper. "You were in a hurry. And where's your sister?" Then I feel a slight tightening in my belly. It's not insistent just yet, but I know her twin's not far behind.

I hear more footsteps and Ben looks up. "It's the paramedics… the ambulance is here."

The next few minutes are a blur of activity as they assess the situation. There are two paramedics, plus Ben's partner, who thankfully waited outside of the already-crowded bathroom. They ask all of us questions, and Ben ribs them about missing the action. In the end, I am put on a stretcher and loaded into the ambulance for the short trip to the nearby regional hospital. Gail stays behind to watch the children, so Ben climbs in behind me with my baby in a blanket.

When we arrive, a team is waiting with a baby incubator, and they put my daughter inside, wheeling her ahead of me.

When the doors to the emergency room slide open, I am shocked to see Christian and Taylor inside waiting for us. Christian's eyes widen as he sees the incubator roll past, but he comes right to my side and takes my hand.

"How did you…" I ask in disbelief.

He smiles. "Charlie Tango." And his eyes flick from me to the incubator disappearing around the corner.

"You have a new daughter, Christian," I say. "That makes three. And if you want to see the fourth arrive, you'd better stick with me. I think she wants to catch up with her sister."

He pales for just a moment, and I see shock and then joy as a slow grin works its way across his face. He presses his forehead to mine. "Oh baby," he whispers. "Okay, let's do this."

We are whisked down a long hallway and up an elevator. Things around me are starting to blur again, and I can only concentrate on the lights overhead as they whiz past. Then the motion of the elevator as it carries us to what I assume is labor and delivery.

I haven't said anything out loud, knowing that everyone was moving as quickly as possible. This new set of contractions haven't been too painful, but the cramps are right on top of each other. And I am starting to feel the bulging sensation between my legs again.

A medical team surrounds us and starts to assess what's happening. They ask if I'm having contractions, and if I need any pain relief. I can only shake my head and say through my teeth, "She's here."

There's a bustle of activity, hands pushing my legs up, reaching in… and I feel it again - a burning, pressure… and release. Then, finally, the angry cry. _She's really here. We have four daughters!_ I lay my head back and just take in the scene. One person is holding a tiny, pink, squalling baby, two are trying to hastily prepare her warming table, and I think Christian is in shock - his mouth open wide, tears flowing down his cheeks.

I reach up and stroke his chin, pull him in until his lips meet mine. "Well, that's it, Mr. Grey. You have FOUR daughters."

He laughs and shakes his head in disbelief as they lay our newest daughter on my chest. "Me and Teddy and FIVE women."

We laugh. "Well I think the ratio will remain as-is," I say. "I think our family is complete."

He nods, eyes still wide, and leans in to kiss my forehead and then our daughter's.

Once the flurry of activity settles, and everyone has been thoroughly examined and cleaned up, Christian and I finally have a quiet moment to breathe and take stock. We have two new daughters - one in my arms, one in his - and they are gorgeous, dark-haired, and absolutely identical down to the swirl of hair on their foreheads, their rosebud lips, and the dimples in their chins. Their ankle bracelets are clearly marked "A" and "B" but we have jokingly dubbed them "Home" and "Away." Baby A is slightly bigger at 5 pounds, 3 ounces. Her sister is 4 pounds, 13 ounces. Together, they make up exactly ten pounds of baby perfection. _Ten pounds! No wonder my body couldn't take anymore._ They arrived at 10:12 and 10:48 AM, just thirty-six minutes apart, and less than an hour after my water broke. In spite of being five weeks early, they are healthy and perfect… and completely unnamed.

Christian strokes the brow of the one in his arms, considers her petite features. "I have always loved the name Phoebe. Can we name this one Phoebe? Phoebe Rose Grey?"

I nod. "I love it, Christian," I say. "And, by the way, which one is she?"

He smiles and checks her ankle bracelet. "Baby B… Phoe-BE. I think it's a match. What do you want to name her sister?"

"Well," I say, looking down at the sweet baby in my arms. "We met over my copy of _Jane Eyre_ , and she's always had a special place in my heart. And, I'm pretty sure this little girl will too. So I think I want to call her Jane. Jane Katherine Grey."

Christian smiles. "Okay, I think we have the names… J-AA-ne and Phoe-BE." And we laugh.

 _Well, that was easy… two perfect babies and two perfect names, all before lunch. Not bad for a morning's work!_ I relax back onto my pillow, anticipating a much-needed rest.

A nurse bustles in just then, "Ready to try breastfeeding them?"

Ohh… and I can see it stretching out before me. TWO babies to feed and care for, FIVE children to raise, and to help make their way in the world… "Yep," I say, reaching to untie my gown. "Let's do this."

 **A/N: I was feeling a little discouraged this morning over reports of trolling and authors deciding to pull their stories from FanFiction. So I decided that an early update with a hot firefighter and some babies was in order! Now give me some good reviews and make ME feel better.**

 **Hope you enjoyed the family fluff. Next week, it's back to the action!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

When I wake, my arms are empty and it's quiet. I open my eyes to see Christian in a chair by my bed, looking at his phone.

He looks up, meeting my eyes, and leans forward to take my hand. "There you are. How are you feeling, baby?"

I take stock… a little stiff and sore, a little sleepy, but overall not too bad. "Not too bad," I say. "It's so quiet."

"Well, you fell asleep nursing, so they took the babies down the hall for baths and monitoring. And," he smirks, "No one in the family knows that we're here."

 _Oh! Oh that's true…_ Everything happened so fast, that no one other than Gail and Taylor even know anything at all. I giggle. "Oh wow, well I guess we should start calling people? Starting with your mother?"

"Are you sure you want to open that Pandora's box?" He asks. "I mean, it's so nice and calm right now."

"Christian…" I warn. If we don't let people know, we will never live it down.

"Okay, okay…" he holds up his hands in surrender and dials Grace's number.

I listen to the one-sided conversation after she answers. "Hi mom… Yep, we're fine… Ana's good… Oh you're on your way out for a hair appointment? … Mmm… Okay, well… Instead, do you want to come meet your new granddaughters?" There's a brief pause and then Christian is holding his phone out away from his ear, and I can hear Grace's shrieks.

I laugh as he gives her a brief rundown of this morning's events, explaining that there was no time for me to get to Northwest Hospital in the city. There's more shrieking and then he tells her let the Grey side of the family know, then to get up to the hospital in Woodway.

He makes an almost identical call to my mother, and that takes care of the Kavanagh side of the family. The news will spread like wildfire. Sure enough, his phone starts pinging with messages. He rolls his eyes. "Told you. So much for the quiet!" And then grins and leans in for a kiss.

Within an hour, the room is filled with family. My parents, Grace, Kate and Elliot, Connie and Molly. Gail is keeping Teddy and home for now, and will bring all three of our children later this afternoon.

The babies are still in the nursery, but should be back soon, so everyone is just visiting and exclaiming over the twins' names and their dramatic entrance into the world.

Kate tears up when I tell her that I chose Katherine as one of the middle names. She leans in and hugs me "Oh Steele… I just can't believe it!"

Christian clears his throat and corrects her, growling "Grey." We laugh. I know she does that just to rile him up.

One of the nurses pops her head in. "It'll just be a few more minutes, and we'll bring your two little ladies back to meet their admirers. But the other grandma just doesn't want to leave the nursery window!"

I feel the smile freeze on my face and my stomach drop as her words sink in. I look up at Christian and he's frozen as well. We know that all of the grandmas are here in this room.

"What did you say?" Asks Christian in a strained voice. I can feel the tension as he croaks out the words.

The nurse looks from me to Christian, wondering what she said wrong. "She… she said she was their grandmother? And she seemed to be just in love with them. She went on about how much they looked like Christian… asking if she could hold them." She continues to stare at him, looking puzzled. "She's not your mother? A tall, blonde woman?"

At this, Christian snaps out of his daze and is out the door. The rest of the family looks confused, but I know what this means. _The Bitch Troll is back in town_.

The nurse quickly reassures me that they don't permit babies to be held without permission from the parents. And then she turns on her heel and exits quickly, going after Christian.

I look over at Grace, silently asking her to change the subject. Knowing Christian's history, I'm sure she's guessed what's going on.

She immediately strikes up an animated conversation with Connie, but I don't even hear the words. I shut my eyes against the blur of activity around me, my ears tuned to pick up on any sign of what's going on in the hallway. There's nothing - no shouting, no running footsteps - so I anxiously wait for my husband to return.

 **xoxox**

Christian is back a few minutes later, looking a little ruffled but no longer panicked. He's followed immediately by two nurses pushing the babies in their little plastic bassinets.

They are immediately surrounded by the pack of cooing, admiring family members. Christian skirts around them and makes his way to my side. "No sign of her," he says quietly. "Taylor went down to the security office to review the CCTV. We'll keep the babies in here and post a guard at the door. Please don't stress about it right now… let's just introduce these girls to their family, okay?"

I put on a happy face, and try to relax as everyone takes a turn holding the babies. We pose for pictures and accept congratulations as everyone leaves after an hour or so.

Through it all, my emotions go from shock to fear to simmering rage. _How dare she. How dare she intrude on our day. I don't know how, and I don't know when, but she is going to pay for this._

Christian orders us some food, which I manage to choke down, and then strokes my hair as I fall back to sleep.

When I open my eyes again, Taylor has taken his place in the chair by my bed. His face is grim, but he forces a smile when he sees that my eyes are open.

"Congratulations," he says. "They're beautiful little girls and I promise you, Ana, that we will keep them safe. Right now, I'm pissed as hell - sorry… so angry over this."

I glance over to the two little pink-blanketed forms in their bassinets to reassure myself. He's not the only one who's pissed. "It was her, wasn't it." It's not really a question.

He nods. "Christian went down to view the CCTV footage himself, but… yes, it was her."

"Did you inform the agents?" I ask, but - again - it isn't really a question. "What do they think she's up to? Surely it's in her best interest to keep a low profile."

"I'm not sure," he says. "I guess it depends on what she's after… to keep herself safe or…"

"Or to scare us?" I ask.

He nods again.

"Or worse." I say.

He doesn't even nod this time, but his face tells me all I need to know. _Shit._

 **xoxox**

Around four o'clock, Gail and the children come in, bringing much-needed excitement and energy with them. The girls are practically vibrating with happiness over the fact that they have two _sisters_ now.

Teddy is cautiously interested, peering at them while Christian gives each girl a baby to hold. When it's his turn, he puts a pillow on Teddy's lap and places one of the babies on it. He snaps a few pictures with one hand, keeping the other one on the baby. "This is…" he pauses to check the bracelet, "Phoebe. She's one of your new sisters. Can you say Phoebe?"

"Pee-bee," says Teddy proudly. We all exclaim over him as a new big brother, the Bitch Troll fading into the background for the moment.

Jane starts to fuss, so Christian takes Phoebe and hands her back to Marissa. Teddy watches with wide eyes as Christian takes Jane from Ellie and hands her to me.

I bring Jane in close, soothing her and getting ready to feed her. Suddenly, Teddy is up and out of his seat, tossing the pillow aside. "NO, baby…" And he squats and pats the floor with his chubby little hand. Uh oh, proud big brother is gone and jealous Teddy is in his place. He is mercurial and totally adorable… _just like his daddy._

 **xoxox**

As we're packing up to go home - two babies, two car seats, way too many balloons and flowers - there's a knock at the door and a friendly face peeks in.

"Ben!" I exclaim. "Christian, this is Ben Warren, my hero firefighter."

Christian stiffens just slightly. He's been adamant in the past that I have female nurses and doctors. And he knows that Ben has been acquainted with all of my… parts. I give him a nudge, and he snaps out of it and strides over to shake Ben's hand.

"Thank you so much for helping my wife and daughters," he says.

"It was quite the morning," laughs Ben, as he comes over to admire the babies. He coos over them and chats with me for a few minutes before his radio goes off. "Time to save the day again," he laughs. And after giving me a quick squeeze and telling us to take care of our beautiful family, he's off.

Christian visibly relaxes once Ben is gone. He pulls me in and gives me a soft kiss. "I know, I know," he says, "but it doesn't mean I have to like it. You're mine."

I return the kiss. "I'm yours. Now take us home."

 **xoxox**

We've had a week to adjust to the girls being home before Agents Baylor and Grant make a return visit.

I am breastfeeding and pumping almost constantly. My normal view involves either a baby's head or a pump attached to an aching breast. Below that is my still-squishy belly, and I don't know if it's going to spring back this time. I have no idea what's going on with my other three children, never mind the outside world.

I'm in the glider in the nursery, Phoebe attached to one side and the pump to the other. Christian comes in, kissing us both and then going over to gaze at Jane, who's - thankfully - asleep in her crib. The babies have tiny, platinum bracelets now - to make sure that we keep track of who is who. We also keep a clipboard on who's eaten, pooped, slept, and so on. Otherwise, it's impossible to keep track.

"Agents Baylor and Grant are downstairs asking to speak with you," he says. Evidently they have been persuasive, convincing Christian to broach the subject with me, because he doesn't look happy about it.

"Well," I say, "I think Phoebe's about done here. And the dining room will actually be a change of scenery. So, I might as well hear what they have to say."

Christian takes Phoebe and lays her down next to Jane. Kate has dubbed her "Janie Kate" and I smile at the nickname. We've found that they're more content - and sleep longer - when they're together. We've also found that they sleep better if Teddy doesn't come running through making fire truck sounds. Evidently Ben, my handsome firefighter hero, made an impression on him too. Or, more likely, it was his shiny red truck. Regardless, it has been all fire trucks and sirens since we got home.

I look down at myself - one of Christian's plaid shirts over a nursing tank, yoga pants, bare feet. I cautiously sniff myself, and smell the sweet odor of breastmilk laced with B.O. Ugh. "Do you think they'll mind if I haven't showered in…" _Hmm, when_ did _I shower last? Maybe we need to add this to the clipboard._

He chuckles. "If they are showing up here NINE DAYS after you had two babies, I don't think they have any right to be picky."

I follow him downstairs, dropping off the bottle of pumped milk with Gail on the way. She manages our stock of 'white gold' - carefully doling out what's needed and freezing what isn't. I tried taking care of it myself a few days ago, and spilled an entire bottle, crying for a solid fifteen minutes in frustration. Since then, it's been an unspoken rule that Gail will handle it.

Christian and I make our way into the dining room, where the agents and Taylor are waiting, coffee and muffins already in hand.

"Mrs. Grey," says Agent Baylor, standing to greet me. "Congratulations to you."

I smile, and note that he seems genuinely pleased for us. But I can't help but wonder if his happiness is more due to the fact that we can get on with the investigation.

"Yes," says Agent Grant, also standing to grasp my hand. "From me too. I hear those babies made quite the debut. And how are you feeling?"

Again, she seems genuinely concerned, but likely more concerned with if I'm feeling well enough to help them.

"I'm feeling all right, but tired," I say honestly. "I feel… _delivered._ " And we all smile, but it's clear that, now that the niceties have been observed, that it's time to get down to business.

"So, is there word of a… _shipment?_ " I guess. "Do you know how many?" _How many lives are at greater risk if I don't help?_

"Yes, and we believe that it's between twelve and fifteen girls and young women," says Agent Grant.

 _Ohh…_ "And how… and when?"

"This group is coming from Mexico, although some of the girls may be from other places in Central America," she says. "They're being brought by boat to a private dock."

"So, they bring them in on a boat to this… private dock," I say. "And then what?"

"We believe that there is some sort of holding area, and then then they are sold. They become domestic servants, migrant workers, sometimes even sex slaves. They are completely at the mercy of Mrs. Lincoln and then whoever buys them. And, remember, they have no rights… First of all, they are illegals. In most cases, they don't speak English. They are isolated and fed lies about what will happen if they try to escape. They paint the outside world here as a dangerous place, and they threaten to hurt their families."

I nod, resolved to listen to the agents' plan. "So, if you're here, there's obviously something I can do to help. Tell me what I can do."

Officer Baylor clears his throat, taking over the conversation. "We have been hesitant to really move on this, because we fear that Mrs. Lincoln's home is only a decoy location. If we are correct, and it is the base of operations, we can blow this thing wide open. But, if we're being tricked - or if we're wrong - we could jeopardize months of work. And if these people are not caught, we will be putting our sources in grave danger."

"So you need to prove that this is the correct location without blowing your cover," I say, "And this is where I come in?"

"Yes," he says, "In ten days, Mrs. Lincoln will be hosting a birthday party for her daughter. And we have confirmed that you are on the list of invitees. Two days after the party, the - _shipment_ \- is due to arrive."

I swallow. "And you want me to attend the party."

"Yes. This could be our chance to finally get inside the home, see if there's evidence of a holding area. We have floor plans and photos of the property. And we would be monitoring you at all times…"

I look up and Christian's face is tight, but he's quiet, listening. "Okay," I say, taking a deep breath, "Show me what you want me to do."

We spend the next hour poring over blueprints and exterior photos of Mrs. Lincoln's home. Unfortunately, neither Agent Grant or Katie are on the list of invitees. So, other than a wire and a tracking device, I will be on my own.

"You should be receiving your invitation to the party in the next day or two," says Agent Baylor. "Please RSVP 'yes' to the engagement, and we'll be in touch two days before the party to get you set up."

I nod and we see the agents to the door. As I turn away from the entryway, I am greeted by the wail of a hungry newborn. _No rest for the weary…_

Gail appears, coming from the kitchen, "Want me to get her and give her a bottle?"

I shake my head. "No, we're finished… I'll get her. Thank you, Gail."

I hurry upstairs to scoop up a wailing Jane before she wakes her sister, settling into the glider with her. She latches on immediately and grasps one of my fingers in her tiny fist. I'd like nothing more than to simply enjoy this time with my babies, but in her sweet face I see the reflection of so many other women and children. And I know that I am doing the right thing.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

The next morning, I have both babies fed and back to sleep before seven-thirty. Feeling proud of myself, I realize that I'm in time to see the girls off on the bus. I quickly throw on a robe and pad downstairs in bare feet. The girls and Teddy are just finishing up breakfast, and Gail is sliding a stack of fluffy pancakes in front of Sawyer. They both freeze and look up at me like I'm a creature from another planet.

 _Okay, so I really haven't been downstairs much and I still need that shower…_ "Good morning," I chirp. "Can I help with anything? Have you packed the girls' lunches yet?"

Gail recovers and closes her mouth, straightening. "Well good morning… No, I have it under control. I was just about to pack…"

I wave her off. "I'll do it." I look around me and instantly regret offering to pack lunches. I have no idea where anything is in this new kitchen. "Ummm…"

In the end, I think it takes twice as long with me 'helping' out. It turns out that the peanut butter and jam are in the 'pantry cabinet' which has a complex system of layered doors and shelving. I didn't even know that it existed, never mind what was kept in it.

The girls scramble out the door just as the school bus pulls up and honks its horn. I close the door behind them and lean back against it. "Well that could have gone more smoothly," I say, feeling defeated.

"Don't worry, Ana," soothes Gail. "You'll be back in the swing of things in no time. Come sit down and let me make you some tea."

 **xoxox**

Two days later, my invitation to Gia's party arrives in the mail. It's on heavy, cream stationary with coral and gold flowers. _Elinor Landry_ invites me to join in celebrating her daughter Gia's thirtieth birthday. Like Taylor, the agents aren't sure what the Bitch Troll is up to with her visit to the hospital and now this.

The party is at four o'clock in the afternoon. I can't decide if that's good or bad… I won't have to snoop around in the dark, but I also won't be able to use it as cover.

 **xoxox**

On the Tuesday before the party, Gail and Teddy are the only ones in the kitchen when I come downstairs. "Sawyer went downtown with Christian today," she says, and makes a face. "Taylor isn't feeling well."

"Oh," I say. "Is he… _you know_." Gail is extremely caring and capable in so many areas, but she _cannot_ handle vomit. Seeing, smelling it, or even talking about it will send her into a round of gagging.

She nods and puts her hand over her mouth, which is my signal to change the subject.

"So…" I say, trying to think of something. I'm relieved when my phone rings, but groan when I see that it's Gia.

"Hey Gia," I say, trying to sound glad that she called.

"Ana! How are you? How are the new babies? Can I tempt you to meet me for coffee? We have got to catch up, girl," she says.

 _Wow, she's enthusiastic this morning… am I suddenly her new bestie?_ "Um, I'm good… they're good… I don't know, Gia…" I stammer.

"Come on, Ana," she whines, "Courtney and Ashley are out of town and I seriously need a little girl time. And you need to get yourself out of that house. Just an hour, okay?"

In spite of the fact that it's Gia, it does sound tempting… getting out, sipping a coffee, being in the outside world. And I think Gia rivals Kate in her powers of persuasion.

I sigh. "Give me an hour? And I'll come meet you, okay?"

Gia lets out a high-pitched squeal, and I have to hold the phone away from my ear. "See you in a few," I hear her exclaim before the call disconnects.

I turn around and Gail is watching me with her arms crossed. "Ana, you know you can't go out without security. Sawyer's downtown and Taylor's… you know."

 _Oh crap_ … I should call Gia back and cancel, but now I really want to get out. Even if it is with the original super mom. Okay, super mom and possible human trafficker. "I'll be fine. I'll drive straight there, have one cup of coffee in a very public setting, and drive straight back."

"But Christian said -" she begins.

I cut her off and head out of the room. "But Christian's not here. I am, and I want to go have a coffee."

 **xoxox**

An hour later, I am showered and the babies are fed and changed. Gail's quiet when I leave, disapproval radiating off of her.

"Thank you, Gail," I say, trying to make peace with her. "I'll be back in an hour, tops. And if Christian calls… don't tell him that I'm out with Gia, okay? Let me tell him tonight."

I slip behind the wheel of the R8, and _ohh it's good to be behind the wheel again._ I feel completely and totally liberated as I roar out of the driveway and turn toward town.

As soon as we have our drinks - my latte and Gia's power smoothie - she starts bubbling on about her party, how her mother's really gone all out. "She's brought in special coral roses from Italy… they're called 'Gia' roses… isn't that _so_ perfect?" She sighs. "So I have three dresses that we ordered and I _cannot_ decide which one is my favorite."

Trying to play along and be a good friend, I ask her to describe the dresses and I am subjected to a ten-minute tirade involving shirring, cold shoulders, and yolks. My head is spinning. "Maybe you should ask Courtney or Ashley?" I suggest. "They're really more…"

Gia shakes her head firmly. "Ashley's out of town until Friday and Courtney's with her mother who's ill." She sighs. "Can I just try them on for you? Pretty please?"

"Oh I don't know, Gia, I really should…"

"It'll be super quick… I promise. Pleeease?" She gives me the pouty-face, which I thought was a Kate Kavanagh original.

"Fine," I hold my hands up in surrender, "I guess it's on the way home anyway. I'll follow you, but I have to go straight home afterwards."

The R8 is parked next to Gia's tiny, two-seater convertible. I turn the key and… nothing. What in the world? I try again, and… still nothing. I lean my head back against the headrest. _Ugh, me and my stupid baby brain._ I must have left something on and drained the battery.

I get out of the car, and Gia rolls down her passenger-side window. "Ana? Is something wrong?"

"Yeah… I think the battery's dead. I don't know what I did, but…" I groan.

"Here, pop in with me. You can give one of your staff a call or we can call a mechanic."

I sigh and slip my phone and keys into my purse. Gia gets out and opens the trunk, placing her purse inside it. "Here, put yours in as well. This car is so tiny, there's no room once you add a second person." I plop my purse in next to hers, and get into the car.

Once Gia starts driving, I automatically reach for my phone to call Gail. Shit, it's in my purse… in the trunk… Ugh. She drives up Crestview, but goes past her driveway and follows the road around another curve.

"Um, Gia…" I say, "didn't you just pass your driveway?"

"Oh didn't I tell you?" She croons, "The dresses are at my mother's… Don't worry, she'll be just fine with us dropping by for a quick minute."

I feel a lump starting to build in the pit of my stomach. We are going straight into the Bitch Troll's den. Part of me wants to tell her ' _No, I can't go in there…'_ But the other part of me doesn't want to raise suspicion. I could blow this whole investigation.

Gia turns into a driveway just past the curve. It's heavily wooded here, with tall iron gates in our path. Gia pulls up to the security box, inputs a code, and the gates swing in to admit us. I can't help but glance in my rearview mirror as the gates close behind us, shutting us in.

I take a deep breath, let it out. _Just breathe, Ana._ As far as she knows, we're just two friends looking at dresses. She's allowed me into her inner circle and she values my input.

 _What could go wrong?_

Gia Breezes in through the front door calling, "Mother, where are you? I have someone here for you to meet."

I feel a fine prickle of goosebumps break out over my skin. I can't help but feel like I've just walked into the belly of the beast, and I am about to meet the bitch troll herself. _Shit_. Here I am… and no one knows I'm here. "Gia," I say, "I left my phone in your car… do you mind if I just…"

She waves her hand dismissively "We won't be twenty minutes… promise!" Then she leads me deeper into the house, calling for her mother. And, whether I should or not, I feel like I have no choice but to follow her. We emerge from the entry hallway into a large, open room. Like all the homes on the coast, it's positioned to take in the view. But what strikes me is the color palate, or lack of it. _Like mother, like daughter…_ The room - walls, carpet, furniture, accessories, artwork - is all white with silver accents. I would be afraid to let my kids within one hundred feet of this room. A stray squirt from a juice box would ruin it.

"Darling!" Calls a husky female voice, and a tall, blonde woman appears, coming through the kitchen area. 'I didn't hear you come in… I was downstairs working on some preparations."

And here she is _Elena Lincoln in the flesh_. My first thought is that this woman has 'cougar' written all over her. She's gorgeous - or she used to be - with high cheekbones and a slim figure. But I can tell she's had work done… her eyes are too cat-like, her lips too full. And her skin has seen too much of the inside of a tanning bed. She's wearing a flowy blouse, tight white cropped pants, and high-heeled sandals. Her too-long and pointed nails, toenails, and lips are all painted fire-engine red. Her eyes are blue, but there's no warmth to them and I know she is taking me in, sizing me up.

"Mother!" Gia rushes forward to meet her, and they air-kiss each other on both cheeks. "I want you to meet my new friend that I was telling you about? This is Anastasia, you know… the one who's married to…"

"Christian Grey," she purrs. And the way she says my husband's name, the way it rolls off her tongue to familiarly, so - possessively - makes my skin crawl. "You may have heard that we were - previously associated?" she asks as she reaches out to take my hand.

I nod, and shake her hand, which is dry and cold, and I immediately pull back out of her grasp. "Yes," I squeak - come _on_ Ana - "Um, I did recently learn that." I cannot discern whether she means their personal or business dealings, but I can only assume both. _Does Gia have any idea of their history?_

Her eyes narrow, and she looks me up and down, smiling and seeming to suddenly grasp that she's supposed to be playing hostess here. "Can I get you ladies some iced tea?"

Before I can politely decline, Gia answers for both of us. "Oh thank you mother, that would be just wonderful. I was telling Anastasia that I just _could not decide_ on which dress to wear for my party. You've ordered in three such lovely choices." Gia bats her eyes and I can't help but wonder if she's putting on a show for her mother or for me.

Elena busies herself in the kitchen while Gia goes to collect the dresses. "I'll be two secs, Ana, and we'll be done before you can finish your iced tea."

I perch on the edge of a white chair, and Elena brings me my tea, returning to the kitchen for hers and Gia's.

She sits in the loveseat opposite me, taking a long drink. "Mmm…" she says, "I'm from the South and we do love our sweet tea."

I smile, and being polite, take a drink of mine. It's very sweet, and I have never been much of an iced tea person, but I absentmindedly sip on it while watching Gia model the first dress. It's the 'cold-shoulder' one she described, and honestly it's never been one of my favorite fashion trends. But, Gia pulls it off, of course. Like Kate, she can look fantastic in a burlap sack. The dress is white with large roses scattered across it, obviously keeping with the party theme, and the color sets off her tanned skin.

I 'ooh' and 'ahh' over it appropriately. I have years of experience doing this with Kate… watching her parade outfit after outfit in front of me, and of course they always look amazing.

Gia leaves to try on the second dress, and - partly to avoid conversation with Elena - I take long drink of my tea, nearly finishing it off. As I sit waiting for Gia, and in spite of being on high alert because of who I'm with - I start to feel sleepy. I check my watch and yawn - _mmm, naptime._ But when I lower my arm, it feels strangely heavy. It seems like I am moving in slow motion. And then everything around me is swirling, my whole body feels fuzzy, and I see spots in my vision. I have just enough sense about me to feel a moment of outraged shock before everything goes black.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

 _Ohh… I have a headache._ I don't usually get headaches. I roll over in bed looking for Christian and - ahh - my breasts are overly full and painful. I need to nurse… and the bed feels strange. I was at the edge, and now as I feel for my husband, my fingers touch a hard, cold surface. _What?_ In spite of my throbbing head, I open my eyes and there's a concrete block wall right in front of me. My eyes fly open the rest of the way, and I sit up… my breasts complaining at the sudden movement. I can feel milk trickling out, soaking my shirt.

I'm on a cot. It's a narrow cot with a bare, plastic mattress. And I'm in a small room - a cell? My heart rate spikes and I start to panic. _I'm in jail? What happened?_ I shake my head, trying to clear it. It's a mistake as it make my head pound even harder, but it's effective. Suddenly, images come flooding in. Gia… Elena… Elena's house… _Shit!_ I'm in the Bitch Troll's house. Or, maybe _below_ her house.

I can see more cells across from me, and they look more like… _kennels_. Instead of bars, they seem to be enclosed with heavy chain link fencing, and separated from each other with concrete block walls. There are four across from me, and I can assume that there are four on my side as well. They are maybe eight by ten feet. Eight kennels, but not for are two cots in each one. _Eight kennels for sixteen human beings._

Room for sixteen… I shudder when I remember that there are supposed to be twelve to fifteen on the 'shipment.' But right now it seems like I am the only one… _or am I?_

I softly call out, "Hello? Anyone there?" Nothing. If anyone else is down here, it's not someone who is willing to speak up.

I sit back, lean my throbbing head against the concrete wall, and take stock. Head? Not so great, but tolerable. Boobs? They are really uncomfortable, and I wrap my arms around myself. My shirt is soaked, and I can feel milk running down and wetting the waistband of my pants. The only comfort I can take in this is that Gail will have expected me home by now. I have been nursing or pumping religiously every two or three hours, and by how I feel, I know it's been WAY longer than that.

I pull up my knees and lay my head down on them. The pressure this puts on my chest actually feels good. I am still a little groggy and am starting to drift…

"Well, Anastasia," says a cold voice. I look up and it's _her_. The Bitch Troll in her element. The lights are on and she is standing just outside my cell with her arms crossed, staring in at me. "I think you underestimated me and my daughter, didn't you?"

I just stare at her. I don't know if she's bluffing and I don't want to jeopardize the investigation.

"Your husband thought he was _so_ smart taking our company and leaving me with nothing but this house. But I've put it to good use… running a tidy little business out of this very room. And now I have the ultimate prize… _you_."

"My husband will come for me," I say. I try to sound confident, but my voice comes out hoarse and shaky.

"Darling, they're on a wild goose chase. Your cell phone took a nice little ride across the Canadian border. Once they follow up on that dead-end lead, you'll be long gone. And once we're away from here, and well-hidden, I think we'll be able to convince that husband of yours to pay. Oh, he's going to pay a pretty penny for you. And hopefully my little visit to the hospital let him know that I won't necessarily stop with you. I will work my way through his pretty little family until I get what I want."

 _Shit, what does she mean? This cannot be happening. What does she want? And wouldn't someone come check for me here? No they wouldn't, Ana, you idiot. No one thinks you're stupid enough to come here on your own._

"I want to milk enough money out of your husband for a new start, a new beginning for me someplace warm. But - speaking of milk - first things first… I don't need you leaking all over She walks out of view and returns with a manual breast pump. Despite my shocked condition, nothing has ever looked so good. She places it in a slot that is obviously designed for passing food and other items. I wrap one arm around my straining breasts, get up, and retrieve the pump and two bottles that are with it.

Thankfully, the Bitch Troll disappears, turning off the lights and leaving me to it. I pull off my wet shirt, exposing my nursing camisole, which is - of course - also soaked, pull down one side, assemble and attach the pump and - ahh - it's slow going and nowhere near as efficient as my hospital-grade, electric pump, but I can feel the worst of the pressure start to go away. I switch quickly to the other side, which is still straining, and relieve it too. Then I go back and forth, filling both bottles, until I am finally empty. Not sure what to do with it all, I put it back in the slot.

I curl up on the cot and stare at the chain-link fencing, wondering when she will return. I should try to find a way out. _I should try to fight._ But my head is still pounding and I am so, so tired. I'll just close my eyes for a few minutes, and then….

I hear footsteps again, but they're soft and hesitant, like the person is searching for something in the dim light. Finally, they stop in front of my cell.

"Mrs. Grey?" asks a soft, high-pitched voice.

I sit up, squinting to make out the figure in the darkness. "Yes," I rasp out, "Who's there?"

"It's Isa - Isabel… the -" she hesitates, "the girl you saw at Mrs. Matteo's house?"

It's her… the girl with the dark, frightened eyes. And she's speaking English… she doesn't even have an accent! I get up and walk over to the chain-link. I glance quickly at the slot, and the milk and the pump are gone. _She must have come back while I was asleep._ "Isabel? That's your name? That's a beautiful name."

She looks down shyly. "Thank you. My friends call me Isa." And she reaches her hand through the chain-link. "It's okay… Mrs. Landry's asleep. The FBI came about an hour ago and searched the house, but they didn't find anything. This -" she gestures to the room around her, "is very well-hidden."

I grasp her hand. "I call her the Bitch Troll… and my friends call me Ana. Are - are you being kept here too?"

She smiles at the nickname for Elena, then shakes her head. "At first, we were all kept here. But then we were taken away, one or two at a time. I went to Mrs. Matteo's house."

"How did you get in here? And you speak English?"

She smiles at this too. "Yes, it's my secret weapon. I lived here in the U.S. until I was seven. They… they don't watch what they say around me and I've learned _a lot_. All of the locks are electronic and… I know all of the codes."

"Can you… can you get me out?" I ask. _Oh please…_

She nods. "We need to leave right away. She's planning to take you away first thing in the morning, and after that…" She shrugs. After that, she won't be able to help me. "Can you swim?"

 _Can I swim?_ That is the last thing I expected her to ask me. "Yes," I say hesitantly. "Why?"

"There are a few ways out, but if we go by water, we won't have to go through the house," she says.

 _By water?_ I still don't understand, but Isabel lets go of my hand and appears to be punching in a code outside the chain-link. There's a soft beep and I hear a latch click open. Isabel opens the gate and gestures for me to follow her.

She walks to a metal door in the opposite wall and punches in another code, then opens it. I gasp when I follow her through the door, into a small room. There are several monitors in here, and on the screens are black-and-white images of… _my house._

I look from screen to screen and there's our bedroom… the nursery… the entryway… and our kitchen. Bile rises in my throat as I take it all in. _The bed where I sleep with Christian, neatly made. Two white cribs sitting side-by-side._ My eyes come to rest on the image of our kitchen. Unlike the others, which are quiet, the kitchen is a beehive of activity. Several figures are visible. One is pacing, while others are hunched around the table. It's ground zero of the investigation, of the search for _me_.

I reach up and place my fingers against the image that's pacing, running his hands through his hair. _Christian._

I feel tears well up in my eyes and I turn and look at Isabel. "Please… I need to go home. Can you get me home?"

She nods and turns to yet another door, inputs the code, and opens it. This time, I feel a blast of cold air. It smells salty and damp… _the outside._ We're going outside! I follow Isabel through the door, and - after my eyes adjust yet again to the dim light - I can see that we're in a cavern of some sort. I can hear water lapping at our feet, and see a domed, rocky ceiling.

 _A cave?_ "Are we in a cave?" I ask.

Isabel nods, and asks again, "You can swim? It's high tide, and we can't risk waiting for it to go down. See over there? We're lucky that it's clear with a full moon tonight."

I can just make out a faint light coming in at the far wall… _moonlight._ "Yes, I can see it. And yes, I can swim. Let's go."

Isabel wades into the water and I follow her. When she's chest deep, she turns to make sure I am following her, then she begins to swim. I push out with my feet, and pull myself into an easy breaststroke. It's slow-going as we make our way to the far wall. I look back a couple of times, expecting the Bitch Troll to come through the door, but there's nothing. Finally, Isabel reaches the far wall and grabs onto the rocks. I do the same.

"The opening is narrow, but we'll fit," she says. And she works her way along the wall until she slips through a cleft in the rock and out of sight. I am right behind her, feeling my way through complete darkness… until I am outside. I am outside, in the dark water, with the bright moon overhead. And I have never seen such a beautiful sight.

Isabel is still clinging to the rocks, but she starts moving along them until we come around a corner. We're on a rock outcropping, which curves back in toward the beach. We work our way along the rocks, clinging with our fingers. The water gets rougher as we get closer to the beach, but soon I can feel my feet hitting the solid bottom. When we are close enough to wade in, we stagger onto the beach, our wet clothes clinging to us.

"We have to walk down to the beach to your house, Mrs. Grey. I think it's about two miles from here. Can you make it?"

I nod, and fall into step alongside her. I'm chilled, but warm up quickly as we walk. Soon, only my hands and feet are cold. After awhile, we have to go around another outcropping, but this one doesn't go all the way to the water, so we can stay on the beach. I look up and see a house above us and a shiver runs down my spine. _Gia's house._

"Did you come from there?" I ask.

"Yes, but not through the water. There's a path through the woods. It's easier, but if she wakes up and finds you missing, that's where she'll look." An image of a ghoulish Cruella Deville chasing after the escaped puppies as they cower under a bridge flashes through my head. _No thanks._

I nod. "Have you lived there - with the Matteos - for a long time?"

"Not really. Maybe a month. I have been watching and listening, and planning my escape. When I heard what they were planning to do with you, I waited until the right time."

"Thank you, Isa," I say, and reach out and squeeze her hand.

She shrugs and turns her face away, but I know she's smiling. The Bitch Troll and Gia seriously underestimated this girl, who they saw as a worthless _puta_. She is, in fact, a brave and beautiful young woman. And I owe my freedom - and my life - to her.

Finally, more lights come into view - a house set back from the shore, lights blazing from its windows in spite of the late hour - the lights of _home_.

In spite of my exhaustion, I start to jog, turning to stride up the path to the wide lawn. I stop when I realize that Isabel isn't beside me. I turn and she's still standing on the beach, suddenly a little girl who's unsure of what to do. "Come on, come with me. You will be safe here," I urge.

Her eyes dart up and down the beach and I know she wants to disappear into the darkness. _But where will she go?_ Finally, she nods and comes up to join me. I take her hand, and we approach the house. I stop and stand still for just a few moments, taking in the scene in front of me. Looking through the glass wall, and past the great room, I can see the same kitchen scene as on the monitor, but this time it's in full, glorious color.

I hear a click and see a flame spark out of the darkness by the patio doors. It lights up a tense face and a military haircut. _Taylor_. I have never seen him smoke before, but I have caught the tang of cigarette smoke on him at times. _Stressful times, like when I've done something stupid…_ I see him take a deep drag on the cigarette and scan the darkness.

I take a deep breath and pull Isabel with me into the circle of light from the patio, choking out "Taylor, it's me," as we step forward.

His head snaps up and his eyes go wide as he sees us. "Ana! Where in the… How did you…" he exclaims as he strides toward us, flicking the cigarette to the flagstones on his way.

I slump in relief as his strong arms envelop me, and I start to shake. "It's a long story. Let's go inside."

Taylor puts his arm around my shoulders and, keeping a tight grip on Isabel's hand, we walk through the patio door.

We walk briskly through the dimly-lit great room and into the brightness of the kitchen. The flurry of activity settles down as people look up, staring at us in shocked disbelief. I am sure Isabel and I are a sight, with our wet hair and clothes plastered to us.

I can see Christian, his back to us, frozen in place as he notices the change of atmosphere in the room.

"Christian," I gasp.

He slowly turns to face us, his eyes wide. I'm sure he thought his ears were deceiving him.

"Anastasia?"

He seems to cross the room in one step and I am in his arms, my face pressed up against his chest, breathing in the scent of Christian. Of _home_.

 **A/N: This story is wrapping up… Leave me a review and I'll reply with a teaser for the next chapter!**

 **Also, this story - along with some other great stories - is nominated for best work in progress (WIP) for September in the Facebook group "Top Five FSOG Stories." Join, read, and cast your vote! It's a lot of fun and a good way to find new reads.**

 **My short story, "Forbidden Fruit" is also nominated for best completed story for September.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

I could stay as I am, with my face buried in my husband's chest, forever. But, the rational part of my brain know there are things to be done. So I turn away from him and face the half-dozen people that are now looking back and forth between Isabel and myself.

I take a deep breath and slowly begin to tell my story, my voice gaining volume and confidence as I go. I can see their expressions changing from surprise, to anger, to disgust as I talk. Christian is standing right behind me, one hand on my shoulder, and I can feel the emotions radiating through his body as well. It's a wonder that he's holding it together and not combusting on the spot.

As I finish talking, ending with our arrival at the house, I can sense a new energy in the room. Now that they have what they need, the agents - Baylor and Grant and two that I don't recognize - are itching to leave, to move on this before it's too late.

Agent Grant asks Isabel for all of the security codes, and Isabel stands at the breakfast bar and calmly writes down all of the information. Once again, I marvel at the strength of this young girl. I resolve to look out for her and to make sure that she has the future she deserves. _A life for a life._

Isabel finishes, and I lean forward to see her work. She has drawn a rough map of the house, indicating the security panels and the codes for each one. The agents nod and thank her, and then - in a swirl of black coats - they are gone.

It's just Taylor, Gail, Christian, Isabel, and myself in the kitchen now. Taylor arms the security system and positions himself in view of both entryways. I can see his handgun at his hip, and - for once - I am thankful for it. He nods at Christian, indicating that things are under control, and that he should take care of us.

"Let's get you in a warm shower," Christian murmurs, his lips close to my ear.

I shake my head. _Oh no, I am not going up to the master suite._ "The cameras…" I protest.

"As far as we know, there's no view of the bathroom. You can go directly in there, and I'll bring you some clothes.

"Isabel," I protest again. She's just as wet and cold as I am. We are both starting to shiver as the adrenaline wears off.

"Gail will take care of Isabel. She can use the children's bathroom and she'll find her some clothes."

Gail steps over to Isabel and puts a hand on the girl's thin shoulder.

"Okay, Isa?" I ask. "Gail will take care of you. You're safe with her."

Isabel nods and then her eyebrows knit together, and I can tell she's thinking - trying to piece something together.

"Is there something you forgot to tell the agents?" I ask.

"Noo…" she says, "It's just - I mean - wasn't that the crunchy mom?"

 **xoxox**

I make my way downstairs after my shower, dressed in my comfiest sweats with my damp hair hanging down my back. I pause halfway down the stairs, just out of view, and listen to the raised voices in the entryway.

"I want to get my hands on her… on all of them! Take me over there. I swear to God this is the last time that she has messed with my family," I hear Christian ranting. No doubt he's back to pacing and pulling at his hair.

"That won't be necessary Mr. Grey… Elinor - Elena Lincoln - has been taken care of. She no longer poses a threat," a softer voice says. It sounds like Agent Baylor.

"Tell me what you found," demands Christian, trying to keep control of his anger.

"What we saw over there, Mr. Grey… Let's just say that there's some things that can't be unseen."

I shudder at this, wondering what they found, and hope that it's not some sort of torture chamber or - worse - a mass grave. Whatever it is, it seems like the Bitch Troll is in custody. And we will make sure that justice is served.

I want to know what they found, but I can hear one of the babies stirring. A shower and dry clothes were the first thing I needed. And one of the babies will take care of the second. I scoop a fussing Phoebe up and eye my glider, then shake my head. Even if the Bitch Troll isn't watching, I don't need to give the FBI a show. The master suite's also out, so I make my way into Teddy's room, leaving the door partway open so I can be found, and settle into the comfy chair that we use for reading.

I can see him tucked snugly into bed, his copper curls on his pillow, and I feel grateful that the children have been oblivious to all that's gone on tonight. But Elena's voice echoes through my head _"... I won't necessarily stop with you. I will work my way through his pretty little family until I get what I want."_ I shake my head and look down at Phoebe - sleepy-eyed and content. She has no idea that I was nearly ripped from her life tonight.

 _Oh no you won't, Elena. It's over for you._

 **xoxox**

"Ana?" Christian's head peeks around Teddy's bedroom door. Gone is the pacing, ranting man and in his place is my gentle husband. I suspect, however, that his anger is still simmering close to the surface.

"In here," I say softly.

He comes in and crosses the room, then kneels in front of me and puts one hand on my knee. "It's all over, baby. When you're done here, they want to brief us and then - he checks his watch - it's two in the morning, so we should get some rest." He reaches up and cups my cheek with his hand. "So brave… But I swear to God, Ana… Why in the world would you -" He cuts himself off, no doubt feeling his rage rising to the surface.

"I know," I say. "Foolhardy."

He smirks at this. "I don't know whether I should worship at your feet or spank you."

I smile, and in spite of my bone-deep exhaustion, I feel desire pooling deep in my belly. "No rough treatment for at least another month," I scold. "And then… I think I'll take option two."

 **xoxox**

Fifteen minutes later, we are all gathered around the dining room table. The two agents who I didn't recognize are not present. Presumably, they're dealing with the Bitch Troll and - I hope - her evil spawn. I look around the table at Gail, Taylor, agents Grant and Baylor, and Christian. I smile warmly at the newest addition to our team, Isabel. She's dressed in one of my sweatshirts and her hair looks clean and shiny. She gives me a shy smile back and takes a sip from the mug in front of her. I know without asking that the mug contains Gail's special hot cocoa.

Skipping over formalities, Christian demands to see Elena. "Where is she being held? I want to be taken to her. Tonight."

"As I said before, Mr. Grey, Mrs. Lincoln is no longer a threat. I found her in the basement room with all the monitors… with a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head."

I gasp and look over at Christian who is staring at Agent Baylor in shocked disbelief. "And… and was it fatal? I mean, is she dead or… I need to know if this is truly over, because if there's the slightest chance -"

"Mr. Grey," Agent Baylor interrupts, "there was blood and brain matter splashed all over the monitors. It's over."

Christian exhales in relief and his shoulders sag, and suddenly the tension is gone and he simply looks exhausted.

"And the Matteos? And the cameras?" I ask.

"We believe that Mr. Matto installed them - or had them installed - under the guise of doing architectural inspections," explains Agent Grant. "We found the computer that was controlling the wireless camera feeds in his home office. The system has been disabled, and the cameras will be found and removed within the next couple of days."

I nod. "And the Matteos themselves?"

"They were in their garage. Evidently Mrs. Lincoln had tipped them off, because they were in the process of loading their vehicle. They have both been taken into custody."

"And Courtney and Ashley?" I ask.

"We have eyes on them, but there doesn't appear to be any activity. We'll bring them in for questioning tomorrow. Depending on how much information they appear to have - and how cooperative they are - they'll either be detained or released."

"But what about my purse… she said something about it crossing the border." I suddenly remember another detail and look quickly at Taylor. "And did they make you sick? Are you okay?"

"Yes, but it was an unpleasant morning," he says, looking up at Gail, who grimaces. "Someone swapped out one of morning meds with a cyanide pill. I'm showing my age, Ana, and I take a handful of pills every morning that Gail sorts into an 'old-man' pill organizer. Blood pressure, blood thinner, cholesterol... and a multi-vitamin that she added," he chuckles. "As soon as you came up missing, it was clear that poison may have come into play. I was given an antidote, but fortunately I had already vomited most of it up."

 _Oh Taylor... I owe him and Gail a get-away to someplace warm and sunny._ "Okay, and my purse and phone?"

"The tracker in your phone made it easy. We intercepted them at the Peace Arch border crossing in Blaine," says Agent Baylor. "They paid an Uber driver a thousand dollars to drive the car across the border and leave it at a shopping mall in White Rock. Apparently, the kid about shit his pants when agents swarmed the car." His face turns serious. "At that point, we didn't know whether or not you were in the trunk."

"That _tracker_ was meant to track YOU, Ana, not your purse," scolds Christian.

"I know," I say softly, knowing how much trouble was caused by my stupidity. _I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry._

"Anyway," says Agent Baylor in a lighter tone. "I don't think that kid'll be taking an offer like that again. He got a slap on the wrist and a bus ticket home. We'll get your purse and phone back to you later on today."

"Did the press… I mean, does my family know what happened?" I ask.

"The news will break in the morning," says Officer Grant.

"You know what? There's no hurry getting my phone back to me." I say, knowing it will be angrily buzzing by the time it's back in my hands. _Here we go again..._

"So - at least for tonight - it's over?" I can practically hear my bed calling me.

"Almost," says Agent Grant. "But we ran into a few little complications at the Matteos' house. Follow me."

She leads us into the living room and there on my couch is one of the other agents with three wide-eyed little boys. Guiseppe, age five, Gian, age three, and baby Gino, not yet six months old. _Shit._

"We'll work on contacting extended family, but seeing as it's nearly three in the morning, and that it might take a couple of days to make arrangements -"

"It's fine," I interject. "Of course they can stay here."

 **xoxox**

At three-thirty, I finally crawl into bed with Christian. Gino is tucked into Jane's crib. Thank goodness the twins are still sleeping together. The two boys are in sleeping bags on Teddy's bedroom floor. Gail and Taylor took Isabel to the cabin with them. "You know I should insist that you go to the hospital to get checked out, Ana," he says. "I mean you were drugged… and who knows what else happened while you were unconscious."

I can barely format a coherent thought, never mind a spoken sentence, but I think I manage to mumble something like _don't even fucking think about it_ into my pillow. Christian chuckles and pulls me close, kissing me softly behind my ear.

As I drift, my mind swirls with questions still left unanswered. _Exactly how much anger will I be facing in the light of day? I'm fairly certain that_ everyone's _mad at me again. What Marissa, Ellie, and Teddy think when they wake up to three extra children and a teenager in the house?_ I have a feeling that it won't faze them. Like me, they've gotten used to this wild ride.

The last thing I hear before dropping into a dreamless sleep is, "I'm glad you're home, Mrs. Grey."

 _Me too._ Our life is fifty shades of crazy, unpredictable, wonderful _love_. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

 **THE END**

Stay tuned for the epilogue, which will be posted tomorrow!

And, as always, thank you for reading! - **xo**


	15. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

 _One month later…_

I slide my hands over the smooth, navy satin of my dress and let out a huge sigh of relief. My size six dress fits perfectly, and even though I know my body isn't back to where it was, it looks pretty darn good. I will have to write a personal letter of thanks to whoever invented Spanx. They have, quite literally, put everything in its place and saved the day.

In just under an hour, my best friend - my sister - Kate will be saying her wedding vows to Elliot. Thinking back over the past nine months, it's been a long road to get to this day. The journey has been wonderful - with the birth of our beautiful daughters and with our other three children blossoming. Our gorgeous new house on the sound is finally complete and home to not only us, but Gail and Taylor and our newest family member, Isabel.

Isabel's heroic acts have earned her a permanent place in this country and in our hearts. She is now a permanent resident, with Taylor and Gail as her guardians, and she will finally get to access the American dream that she was promised. She'll be starting eighth grade in the fall, and we are sending money to help her family in Mexico. She's constantly trying to find things to do to 'earn' the money, but we keep telling her that she needs to be a kid. She plays with Teddy - truthfully, she's fascinated with all of his toys - and keeps him out from underfoot, and some days that's the best help of all. More and more, I find her giggling with Marissa and Ellie as they listen to music or give each other makeovers.

Elena was cremated and Christian had a simple stone placed for her, with her ashes buried beneath. I know it was the honorable thing to do, but some days I can just picture "The Bitch Troll" inscribed in fancy script between her name and the dates.

Gia and Gianni are locked up where they belong, awaiting their trials and sentencing. It will be a good long time before they see the light of day without looking through bars. Together with Elena, they 'imported' 172 women and children into this country. The FBI is following leads to track down as many as possible, and have removed a handful from horrible situations. But, thanks to the secretive nature of human trafficking, the fates of many will probably remain unknown.

Guissepe, Gian, and Gino are living with one of Gianni's sisters in Oregon. It's been a tough transition, but she seems like a good person, and I can't help but think that they are better off in the long run. It turns out that Gianni was just about bankrupt - their spending had far eclipsed the income from his struggling architectural firm. Christian bought out what was left, and between the two homes and the dregs of the company, he was able to scrape together decent trust funds for the boys.

Courtney and Ashley were knowing consumers who benefitted from low-cost, illegal domestic help. Through Gia and Elena, they took advantage of a dirty system, but seem to have no idea of the depth of the problem. They will probably end up sentenced to community service. I can't wait to drive by them, latte in hand, and wave as they pick up litter.

I check my hair and make-up, which was done professionally a couple of hours ago. Smoky eyes, a little glitter, hair in an intricate updo with a few tendrils framing my face. I put on the wedding jewelry. Kate has gone all-out and gotten us all sapphire pendant earrings and necklaces. Even the girls have sapphire studs to compliment their navy blue flower girl dresses.

After one more quick check in the mirror, I go to find the woman of the day. Kate is flanked by our mom, Liz, and Molly, and they're all laughing as they help her with the final preparations. I check the time - thirty minutes until we need to be ready to go.

"Oh Kate," I gush. "You look amazing." Of course she does... the blushing bride is truly in her element. Her gown and veil are on and they are perfection with her blonde curls pulled into a French twist. Her bright blue eyes are dazzling with silver eye make-up.

The photographer swoops in to take some photos of us... the most important women in Kate's life. After a few posed shots and a few candid, he moves away.

"Ten minutes, Katie," says Liz, starting to pick look over our bouquets that were just dropped off.

"Okay," says Kate, taking a deep breath, "but just one more thing while you're all here?"

Something in her voice makes us all stop our preparations and give her our full attention.

"What is it?" Mom asks.

"I asked Ana before, and I'll ask you all now." Tears prick the corners of Kate's eyes. "Do you recommend it? The happy ever after with the men you love and... babies?"

Liz gasps, "You're not going to wait at all?" She clasps her hands together. "Are you going to try for a honeymoon baby?"

Kate laughs tentatively, then looks around at all of us before putting one hand on her belly, on top of her lacy bridal gown. "More like taking the baby on our honeymoon. We just found out... I'm six or seven weeks?"

We all squeal excitedly and hug Kate, all hopping around and laughing, and now all of us have tears threatening.

"Ladies, ladies," squeals Kate, "our make-up! Okay... Liz, the flowers? It's time."

A knock on our door reveals that it really is time, as dad comes in to take Kate's arm. The rest of us precede them out of the room, giving the father and daughter a minute alone.

As I walk downstairs, flanked by mom and Liz, I can't help but think of all the women in my life - a line that stretches through me, and now to my own infant daughters.

And of course, we're surrounded by the men we love. And they're pretty great too. I spot Christian and Liz's husband, Michael, waiting for us outside the double doors to the chapel. The doors are closed in readiness to reveal the wedding party.

Christian takes my arm, kisses me gently on the cheek. "You look phenomenal, Mrs. Grey. It's not fair to outshine the bride."

I laugh and lean into him, feeling the stability of him, his strength. And I let him feel mine. We are in this together, creating this solid foundation. I feel our past, the good and the bad, swirling around us. And, on this day of new beginnings, I can see our future, our road... stretching out before us.

The doors open, and I can hear the wedding march start to swell. I take my husband's arm, and with our oldest daughters walking before us, and we start down the aisle arm-in-arm.

 **xoxox**

Six hours later, I drop - exhausted - into my chair at the head table in the Fairmont Olympic Hotel's ballroom. I'm tipsy and sweating, and the party is swirling around me. Kate and Elliot are still holding court on the dance floor. Kate is radiant, and I don't think her smile has faltered even once today.

Christian slides in beside me and rests his hand on my knee. Connie and Molly took the children - all five of them - home an hour ago. "It's just you and me, baby. Ready to go upstairs?"

"Upstairs? Aren't we going home?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "We have a suite waiting for us, and Gail has packed you a bag."

"Oh has she now?" _Oh, I like the sound of this._ "Then I should tell you that I managed to squeeze in a quick visit to the clinic yesterday?"

Christian looks confused. "Why? Is something wrong? Why didn't you tell me?"

"No, nothing's wrong," I say, lowering my voice and sliding my hand up his thigh. I lean in and whisper in his ear, "It's been six weeks today and we're good to go."

Christian's eyes widen and suddenly he is up and out of his seat, grabbing my hand and pulling me with him. "Upstairs. Now," he growls.

"But what about Kate and Elliot?" I protest. "We should at least say good-bye…"

"Text them. If anyone will understand, it's those two."

I giggle and let my husband pull me from the room. _He's right_.

 **xoxox**

In the room, I pump and dump, cringing as I watch the 'white gold' swirling down the drain. The rational part of me knows that it's laced with champagne and no good, but still.

I take my overnight bag into the large bathroom and dig through it - _please, please tell me that Gail packed me something pretty… yes!_ Tucked into the corner, I find a blush pink, lacy camisole with a matching thong. Thank you Gail!

I freshen up a bit, slip on the lingerie, and examine myself in the mirror. Not perfect, but not bad either.

Christian is perched on the end of the king-sized bed, shoes off and shirt collar open, watching as I come out of the bathroom. His eyes darken as I approach him, but he doesn't move a muscle. _Hmm_ … Based on his behavior downstairs, I expected to be attacked - thrown on the bed and ravished within an inch of my life.

I stop and my tracks and fiddle with the lace trim on my camisole. "Is this all right?" I ask, sinking my teeth into my bottom lip.

That does it. "Don't bite your lip, Anastasia," he says in a husky voice. "You look good enough to eat, but I think we have some business to attend to, don't you?"

 _Umm… Where is he going with this?_

"If you'll recall, you said four weeks ago that you would take option two. And I am going to hold you to your word."

 _Ohh. Oh no._ "Christian, I have been scolded up and down by every member of this family. I have apologized to all of our staff - and the FBI - multiple times. I don't know what else to do. Don't you think I have been punished enough?"

"You've put things right with all of those people. But this is between us. Ana, you put yourself at risk. Again. My word revolves around you. It doesn't work without you."

I nod, and tears spring to my eyes. "Christian, I feel the same… you know I do…"

He holds up his hand and begins to walk, circling me slowly. "Let's see… ONE, you went out - without security - to meet someone who was a known threat. TWO, you ignored the warning bells that should have gone off when your car wouldn't start. THREE, you got in the car with Gia. FOUR, you let her separate you from your purse and phone, which you knew contained your tracking device. Beyond that point, Ana, it was out of your control. But YOU put yourself in that situation."

I stand still, my senses on high alert. I feel scolded, but turned on at the same time. It's a heady combination, and I am ready for some relief.

"But," he continues, this time placing a finger under my chin and bringing my eyes up to meet his, "it was my past that caused all of this in the first place. And for that, I'm the one who's sorry. I'm going to spank you and then I am going to fuck you. And then we're going to move on from this… together. Now, lean over - hands on the bed," he demands. "Ready?"

 _Oh yes…_

 **xoxox**

 **A/N: Thanks, once again, for reading and reviewing. Until next time, friends… Laters! xo**


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